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  [Marrok]

  The dungeon smelled the same as he remembered, the musty woody smell of fresh woodland, made more intense by the dense ambient mana. Marrok smiled, this was it, the time to get stronger was upon him.

  Marrok could feel the pressure build within him, he had felt it for a couple years now, he knew he was close to the breakthrough that would raise him above that of the other pitiful goblins who had mocked him for his small size, and weakness. He was already the chief of as tribe, already had the highest tally of any goblin he had seen in person, and soon, if all went to plan, he would become a legend of myth for goblin kind, proof that something more was out there for them.

  A hobgoblin.

  Then, then he would be powerful, proven right.

  He couldn’t wait.

  Walking through the black, he descended into the dungeon with the others, pleased that none had tripped over. It was to be expected though, warriors shouldn’t trip over.

  As the others stood in awe he watched, careful to keep observing the environment for danger. He could forgive their idle amazement for in truth the dungeon was extraordinary, he could scarce have imagined such a life-filled cavern hidden beneath the ground, it defied all of the stories he had heard of dungeons, confined stark tunnels and dark dangerous monsters in small rooms was what he had expected, but this was different.

  He had not had sufficient time on the previous occasion, to examine the dungeon fully, but he could feel the wonder all the same. He wasn’t so different from the others, but he was experienced and wary enough to keep track of his surroundings.

  He glanced over, pleased that Forroll was also keeping aware. He had debated bringing her along. The others might suspect he had made her his, he wasn’t ready for that yet, although he thought she was a good choice. A respectable tally, the ability to heal and take care and a keen mind to boot. She was more of a catch than others had realised and like him she was a slight oddity. Not quite fitting in with the others.

  Forroll caught his eye and he snarled, showing he was the boss, she smiled back. Gah, she was irritating, he glowered, turning away and grunting to the others to get under control. Damn woman.

  As if she had heard his frustration she smiled even more. He pretended not to notice.

  “Come on, let’s move” He said, pushing the nearest warrior ahead.

  The goblin stumbled slightly, spinning around and hissing in anger. Marrok smacked him, spinning him around again. “Move it!” he said firmly, in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Clearly unhappy, the angry goblin turned back round, not willing to press it with Marrok. Good choice, Marrok thought, glad not to have to kill him. Several would die in the dungeon he was sure, but that shouldn’t be to him. The weak needed to be purged so that the strong could flourish and so in turn would the tribe flourish.

  Grow or die.

  That would be the new philosophy of the tribe and he would ensure it was carried out with an iron will. They would become great, there was no alternative.

  Advancing through the dungeon, he filtered the smells through his nose, searching for the scent of prey or predator, nothing but the grasses stood out to him.

  Likewise, he searched the grasses with his eyes, looking for the flash of movement that could signify a creature, odd moving grasses, anything that stood out he would spot. Nothing, it was too quiet, what was the dungeon playing at? He wondered to himself.

  He took the lead as they approached one of the trees, watching to try and determine the range they could expect if it lashed out.

  Nothing, it was just a normal tree.

  They came to the next tree, and he once again took the lead, watching carefully.

  There. He spotted it.

  “Warriors, look here, see the grasses how they flow back and forth in the breeze swaying this way and that with the everchanging gusts. Feel the wind and look at the branches.” Marrok waited for them to follow his instructions.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “What are we looking for?” one of them asked.

  “Just watch”

  “There, I see it!” Forroll exclaimed. “It moved against the wind for just the barest second.

  “Yes! Well done… Forroll.” He said, toning down he praise at the last second realising who had spoken. She frowned slightly, and he felt a flicker of guilt. He banished it.

  “Watch carefully, I want all of you to spot it, all of you, no lies, this level of observation is incredibly important.”

  It took the rest a good few minutes before they all spotted it, or at least reported to. Marrok wouldn’t spare time for a liar, they would be better or dead, it wasn’t his responsibility if they lied to him.

  “Good, now watch” he said, unsheathing his axe and stepping into range.

  The tree came alive, striking at him almost immediately. He slipped back, dodging the branch and hefting his axe.

  Pruning with a vengeance came next as he began dismantling the tree one branch at a time. When there was just a barest trunk left, he chopped it down with a few heavy swings.

  The crack of the trunk toppling over was accompanied with the barest rush of power, hidden almost by the adrenalin of the fight. Only his calm attitude and matter of fact actions meant he was able notice. In fact, it was the first time he had felt it himself, but he supposed it was the experience of the tree as he had said earlier, growing his power.

  Beneath the roots of the tree was a small wooden chest, cracking it open, he brought out a few coins of various metals, disappointment flickering in his face. A couple of small mana crystals and a ingot of iron were the reward. Useful he supposed. He slipped them in his pack, hefting it onto his shoulder as he spoke.

  “Right, you’ve seen how it’s done, get into groups of two and search out the rest, kill ‘em, loot it and we’ll move on, Forroll with me as we observe them, get ready to heal anyone that gets caught.”

  She sighed in disappointment, tough, she would have her chance but for now the warriors needed it. She would grow strong with him. He just needed to temper her attitude.

  The goblins dispersed, searching out the trees.

  Marrok watched, the position of overseer was a good one, yet the lack of combat was a big downside, still they needed the practice especially on such an easy floor.

  Whilst they were fighting the trees, Marrok and Forroll walked around the floor looking for the exit of the first floor or entrance to the second floor… for the stairs. He had followed the cat down before but he wasn’t sure exactly where in this floor the creature was.

  They found it a few minutes later, hidden behind one of the trees. It lashed out at them, but they dodged round it and descended the stairs. He pondered whether or not to descend for a while, deciding eventually to walk down and check that nothing had changed.

  Marrok knew what to expect, but the sheer scale still took him by surprise. Trees as tall as that just didn’t grow in the Weir wood. He wandered across the wobbly canopy to the taller tree, stepping onto the stairs that descended and peered down at the floor.

  Forroll joined him, eyes wide at the sight, when she looked down Marrok thought he saw an uneasy look in her eye, being this high up perhaps, heights did that to people.

  “Wow” she muttered softly, her breath fluttering next to his ear.

  “Let’s go back, hopefully the others have done their jobs.”

  “Sure” she replied.

  Climbing the stairs and exiting onto the first floor, Marrok and Forroll were greeted by a comical sight. One of the smaller goblin teams were facing off against a tree. The dumb one, Marrok identified him as such because he was the one boasting about getting riches from the dungeon, stepped in too close to the tree.

  The spindly branches slashed out with frightening speed knocking him back and puncturing his upper arm, leaving a deep cut that bled profusely. Stumbling back, the goblin stepped heavily, screaming loudly as he collapsed, the spines of a hedgehog piercing his foot. The cute creature now hovering mid-air, attached to him as it was through its spines.

  Marrok watched with apathetic eyes, content to let the goblin suffer for its foolishness. But before his eyes the goblin seemed to grow more gaunt and lifeless, as if his lifeforce was bleeding away.

  He rushed forward, ripping the hedgehog out of the goblin’s foot, provoking another scream as he did so.

  It did nothing.

  “What?” He questioned, confused.

  “The floor!” Forroll shouted, drawing his eyes. “The plants on the floor”.

  Sharp spines from the twisting vine like plant had suckered into the wound on the goblins arm, twisting around it, they pulsed every few seconds in time with the goblins worsening condition.

  Slashing through them, blood squirted out of the cut end, spilling into the floor where more of the plant swooped in to recover the lost yield.

  Watching carefully, he dragged the warrior back to safety. Feeling the tugging rip as more of the plant, from underneath him pulled free of the flesh.

  “Forroll, heal him.” Marrok commanded.

  A new monster. He thought scouring the scene with his eyes, taking in as much as possible. The plant grew still, a slight mottled crimson colour present on the spines. Slowly it faded away as the plant seemed to grow slightly, stronger than before. This was interesting, if the plant got stronger and stronger over time it could very easily become very dangerous, especially as it was only passive, it was completely still, appearing like the normal brambles in a forest until it was fed its prey. Perhaps they could use this, feed it and make it stronger and stronger until they were ready to collect on all that strength.

  No, probably not, he thought in retrospect. Just fighting the stronger monsters deeper in the dungeon like the wolves would be more efficient, it was interesting though.

  Glancing over he checked on the warrior, Glady was his name – if he remembered correctly. Marrok tended not to remember the names of his fellow warriors, the turnover in goblins was tremendous, and it was a power play too. Not knowing their names.

  Glady was arrogant and foolish and although Marrok didn’t wish him dead, he also didn’t particularly care if the foolish actions ended up killing him either. But he wouldn’t sacrifice him needlessly, if he fell to a strong monster down the line, further in, that was a fair death, and he would probably go the true God. But dying to some bloodsucking brambles, needless.

  Forroll had bandaged up his cuts, rubbed salve on and was performing her healing chant. She had slight shamanistic abilities and he hoped to cultivate those one day. If he could keep her with him and help her evolve too, then their tribe truly would become great with himself a Hobgoblin in the leadership and her as a Shamanistic Hob, the Weir goblins would be unstoppable.

  Soon, Glady’s lifeforce seemed to return to a bit more lively looking. Enough to continue.

  “That’s good.” He said. “Good work” he told Forroll.

  The rest of the goblins finished up the tree that had cut him and the other teams had begun filtering back in having finished their task too. Many were sporting a few jewels and coins that jingled in their packs. Good.

  “Good work warriors!” he called as they approached.

  “Hah, of course Glady, it was you that got injured.

  “Fuck off, Brey.”

  “Fuck you too.”

  “No fuck you…”

  “…” they continued for a while. Marrok let them, the arguing was a good way to lighten the mood.

  “Enough” he said after a while. “The next floor has wolves, it should be a good fight, and a more straightforward fight, keep aware, cover each other’s backs and we will be able to cut them down with ease, moving on to floor three before long.”

  They cheered, excited to make progress.

  Forroll did not.

  Marrok had noticed she was much more composed, less prone to the sloppiness that many of their kind didn’t even realise they had.

  “Come on then.” he said.

  “Off we go.”

  “Riches await, woo woo.”

  “Shut up you idiot.”

  “You’re the idiot.”

  “No you are.”

  “You both are.”

  “Well, I’m certainly cleverer than he is so he’s the bigger idiot.”

  They bantered back and forth as the goblins descended the stairs onto the next floor. Marrok expected they would all make it through this floor without too much trouble. What came next though he wasn’t sure. Hopefully, more straight forward fights.