As Gromp entered the room, the attention of all the ninety-odd goblins spread across it instantly condensed on him. The voices of the tribesmen slowly subsided, the only ones still chattering being the elders seated at a long table. The old wooden desk, most likely looted from one of the human villages, was stationed to face the cavern's entrance. Various meats and fruits were spread across it – glossy red berries, smoked rabbit legs, and a whole roasted boar – all having been caught or gathered by the ceremony’s participants.

  However, even their voices gradually died out as the chief, obviously sitting in the middle of the table, raised his hand. Only echoes remained, but even those faded after a few fleeting moments. The silence was deafening.

  ‘‘About fucking time you showed up, kid,’’ finally spoke the chieftain in an irritated tone. ‘’All of your friends have already brought their spoils long ago!’’

  Gromp gulped. His confident demeanor was slowly but surely breaking under the boss goblin's gaze. He broke eye contact and lowered into a half-bow.

  ‘'M-My bad chief. I've brought back some good stuff though, I'm sure you will like it!'’ He chuckled and skittered out of the way as he said his piece, the orc's corpse left out for all to see.

  Silence fell upon the cavern yet again. The chief, too, seemed to be at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing again and again, unsure of how to react. Finally, an already slightly intoxicated goblin whose old head had just processed what the hell he was seeing, decided to play hero and break the hush.

  ‘'Well cut off my nose and call me an elf, is that a motherfuckin' orc I see?'’ He remarked with a hearty laugh, nearly falling from the rock he was sitting on in the process.

  Excitement spread among the goblins in the blink of an eye, the cavern growing even more noisy than it was before Gromp's arrival. Many sat up and stepped closer to the corpse, trying to get a better view of it and before long, a half-circle formed around it. Veins protruded along the chief's neck. He was losing control of the very monsters he was supposed to command.

  Slowly, with deliberate movement, the chief raised his hand. The frequency with which he had to deploy the cool gesture made the chief even angrier; he had planned to only use it once in a while, for he knew that scarcity would give it weight. Sadly for him though, his nonchalant, stylish hand raise did little to calm his tribesmen. Truth be told, nobody even batted an eye at him as this was the first time they had seen one of the orcs since the two tribes’ last clash.

  Nevertheless, the chief did not give up that easily. Opting for a change of tactics, he changed his approach for a verbal one and cleared his throat, rather audibly at that. This was not the best move, as the sound quickly dissipated, drowned among his subjects’ excited chatting and yelling. This innovative approach did reach the elders, sitting by his side though, and the shamaness who sat on his right side decided to take up the opportunity and rose up.

  The shamaness was, ironically, the only actual elder among their numbers, as well as the only woman sitting at the table. The others were simply the chief's old friends from back when he was the tribe’s main hunter, young men who had helped him usurp the previous leader and his followers. Only four winters had passed since that bloodshed, the memories of it still fresh in the withered shamaness’ mind.

  She looked down at the youngling – now a full-fledged goblin, who had brought down an orc all by himself.

  Didn't they kill your father as well, child? To bow your head before your daddy's killer…

  She snorted as she looked down at the clansmen below her, the memories of her old tribe resurfacing from the depths of her old mind. Almost every goblin was now gathered in one spot, pushing each other out of the way. She took a deep breath - perhaps she was getting too old for this.

  'SILEEENCE!!' She roared at the top of her lungs, the sound piercing through the large cavern like a lightning bolt.

  The rowdy goblins finally settled down, startled by her sudden howl, and the shamaness spoke once again.

  ‘'The chief shall speak now.'’ She added and with a satisfied grunt, plopped her behind right back on the chair.

  Seeing their chief's glare the crowd quickly dispersed, leaving Gromp to be the centre of attention once anew.

  '’Did you bring down this orc with your own hands?'’ Questioned the chief, the underlying frustration still evident in his voice.

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  ‘’And if you did -–’’ he swiftly added, ‘’how?'’

  Gromp fiddled with his hands, finding the more than one hundred eyes converged on him slightly overbearing.

  ‘'Err… bow and arrow, chief! Had to bash his skull against the rocks to finish him off. He was quite tough!'’ He stammered, anxiously giggling.

  The chief leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight, and stared off into the ceiling as if he was in deep thought. Shortly thereafter his gaze focused back on Gromp and after a well-deserved sip of red wine, he voiced his thoughts.

  ‘'Let's presume I believe you, kid, but that still leaves many questions unanswered.’’ The boss goblin carefully articulated. ‘’And the one that really keeps bothering me is, what the fuck was an orc doing sneaking around on our territory – on MY territory.’’

  '’Did he carry a weapon?'’ Chimed in Elder Kuro as he feasted on freshly roasted rabbit.

  ‘'Yes. Yes, he did.’’ Answered Gromp, further intimidated by the sudden interrogation. ‘’Just a stone hatchet, but I left it behind.’’

  ‘'So, let me get this straight. An orc, with no armour as far as I can tell, and armed only with a fucking stone hatchet, came all the way to… where did you fight him again?'’ Kuro inquired.

  ‘'At the river, boss.’’

  ‘'All the way to the river, then, with no hunting gear. Is that correct?'’

  Gromp fervently nodded.

  Kuro and the chief looked at each other, some of the other elders also slowly catching on. A wide smile spread across the chief’s face as he was unable to conceal his emotions.

  The chief could not resist chuckling to himself. ‘'Sounds like a scout.'’

  He glanced at the shamaness, as memories from four years ago flashed before his eyes.

  'We cannot be sure,' spoke up elder Zakk, head of the goblin scouts, 'I mean, the orc could have just been-'

  ‘'Doesn't matter.'’ The chief swiftly cut him off. ‘'We will not make the same mistake as Chief Apo, whose trust cost him his life, and give them the benefit of the doubt, will we? We simply can't allow ourselves to be caught off guard again.'’

  The goblin leader stood up, towering over the others due to his huge build.

  '’All warriors, prepare for battle!' He hollered as a sinister sneer spread across his face ‘’The orcs want war? Then we will bring the war to them!'’

  As the first rays of light peeked at the goblin den, its residents were already well on their feet and enthusiastically skittering from one place to another. Despite their yesterday's party being cut short, not one goblin seemed to be gloomy or depressed.

  An attack force of exactly forty-two goblins, led by the chief and the shamaness by his side, was in the midst of preparation. It was mostly composed of younger males, although there was also the odd female or grandpa donning their trusty fighting gear.

  Those lucky few with families to speak of were saying their goodbyes; their words were full of excitement however, for if they were to perform well in battle or manage to loot any expensive item it would bring great fortune to them and their close ones. This was in great opposition to the dull armies of Man, which rarely failed to be as depressing and gloomy as they could physically muster.

  Gromp, now just barely an adult himself, was obviously part of the army as well. He stood a few paces away from most of the others, seeing that some of the older goblins were not too opposed to starting the fight sooner rather than later – not that he thought he would lose to any of them, but even he realised that this was not the time to stir up trouble.

  In his lanky dark green arms, he held a spear – elder Kuro had handed it out to him, as the only weapon Gromp had to his name was a flimsy bow and a rather skillfully crafted dagger that had belonged to his now deceased father. As most others, he wore only a loincloth to conceal his private parts as he had not been able to get his hands on the nicer human clothes the more influential greenskins wore.

  Gromp thrust the spear a couple of times, getting a feel for its weight. He smiled as the razor-sharp bone spearhead cut through the air with a satisfying sound.

  '’Yo, orc slayer!'’ Someone shouted, the sarcastic comment clearly aimed at him.

  Instantly woken up from his daze, Gromp looked around in search of the voice's owner. He sighed as his eyes landed on a particularly ugly mug, moving closer and closer to him.

  ‘'What's up, Tarek?'’ Gromp sighed, slouching as he felt all his energy leave his body.

  Fuck, I hate this bastard. Too bad I can’t smash his face in, not with who his daddy is.

  ‘'Oh, don't look at me like that!’’ Snickered the shorter goblin, playfully hitting Gromp in his chest. ‘’My father told me to come fetch you, I didn’t come all the way here just to mess with you. Come on, let's go!'’

  With a tired groan, Gromp trudged after his obnoxious peer, his legs feeling heavier with each and every step. They maintained a safe distance as they made their way through the mighty Chipped ear tribe's ''army'', before finally, after a healthy dose of pushing and shoving, the two goblins arrived at the other side of the large group. There, elder Turak, Tarek's father, awaited them, with an orderly line of eight young goblins standing by his side. As Gromp silently joined them, the elder began speaking.

  ‘'Now. You must be wondering why I called for you all, correct?'’ He probed, giving each of the younglings a quick look over.

  A wave of nodding, reinforced with a tasteful touch of murmuring confirmed the elder's well-placed guess.

  ‘'You see,’’ continued the elder with an ever more engaging voice, ‘’the great chief has decided to pass upon you all a great opportunity. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you might even say.'’

  The young goblins, all between the ages of five and eight, looked at each other. Smiles crept up, and eyes gleamed at the mention of this golden chance the elder spoke of.

  ‘'You nine have been granted the opportunity to lead the attack on the orcs – to stand on the very forefront of battle!'’ Declared elder Turak, pointing at the group with his index finger as he talked.

  The smiles toned down a notch, and eyes grew cold. This sounded dangerous.

  ‘'Now, now. I understand, the risk is big.’’ Reluctantly admitted Tarek’s father, apologetically raising his hands in the air. ‘’You must realise, however, that the rewards are even higher!'’

  The elder wiped his sweaty hands and leaned in towards the younger goblins as he quickly glanced left and right to ensure no bystanders were listening.

  ‘'By the great chief's word,’’ he resumed in a barely audible whisper, placing his right hand over his heart, ‘’if someone among you nine manages to achieve great things during this battle – and you must not, under any circumstance, mention this to anybody – he will grant you his only daughter's hand.'’

  Gromp and the others nearly started jumping in excitement – this really was a once in a lifetime chance! Nonetheless, only one of the goblins, standing right at the edge of the group, did not seem happy with the current situation. The youngling bit his lip as he wordlessly glared at the elder.

  I see right through you, disgusting bastards. I'll make sure to kill you myself.