Life in Lugustia

“My fellows, honorable lords and seigneurs, loyal vassals of the palace, it is clear to all who hold reason as virtue that the proposition put forth by the lord of Elagagne is naught but an unsubtle ploy to extend his own reach, as the demands stipulated by him for this peace treaty shall bring the newly conquered land in proximity to his own, hence lending him sway over…”

Lord Valieu had been granted permission to speak during the Assembly addressing the terms for the peace treaty with the neighboring kingdom that had attacked Lugustia that fateful day. In such discussions, the Estates-General provided the king with advice as how to deal with certain matters, and as such, it was considered churlish to interrupt someone in their speech. Thus, a particular political culture developed in Lugustia, whereby politicians would speak in long-winded sentences, in order to prevent their opponents from getting their own thoughts into the fray.

The monologue currently given by Valieu was written by his assistant, right-hand man, and counselor Aremfrid.

Ever since that day five years ago, where he gave up on escaping and realized the stature that mankind held, he committed himself to his studies. He accumulated erudition and transformed himself into an academic. With Valieu’s investment growing in value, he began to employ him as his assistant, tasked with performing research on relevant political topics as well as his adversaries in the Assembly. Aremfrid came to further demonstrate his brilliance, and he began to write papers in his master’s name to further his efforts, eventually becoming his amanuensis.

Valieu was pleased with Aremfrid, who had imprinted on him and copied his speech and mannerism, becoming invaluable to his line of work. Valieu began to regard his servant as the son he never had, and cherished him as if he were his own.

For Aremfrid, only one goal stood central in his mind: To “elevate” the goblins to the same technological, societal, and structural organization that the humans had.

He dedicated himself towards becoming a master of statecraft, determined to, one day, return to Gobland a free man, and to put his years of experience to use in forging a goblin kingdom that would come to last for ages. All built in ways of mankind. Man, who managed to build a system whereby their loved ones are protected, their honor defended, and their lands can prosper, unlike the goblins who could do naught but built palisades to keep dread lynxes out, but could do nothing more to improve their state of being. He was determined to end this, to help his people, to sincerely better the status and wellbeing of his kind. To this end, he worked tirelessly in the pursuit of knowledge and finesse.

Some part of him rejected this burden, and desired to live his life as a Lugustian. As his master’s protégé. As a human. However… a goblin could never be truly at home amongst humans.

“Good day, master trader. I would like to purchase this pot of ink, if you would kindly sell it to myself,” Aremfrid told the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper gave a puzzled look. “…That’ll be three silver coins.”

“But…”

“Hmm? It’s quality. You’re not gonna find anything better your kind can afford.”

“Excuse me, good sir, but your price catalogue said it costs but one coin.”

“You… You know how to read? By the palace, well done! You’re quite clever for a goblin. Almost human!” The shopkeeper bellowed a laugh from the depths of his stomach.

“I appreciate the compliment, good sir. May I presume this one coin will suffice?”

“If only more goblins were as humble as you, haha. Anyway, let me see that coin,” the shopkeeper scrutinized the piece of silver to the smallest details. He gave it soft bite with his teeth to check its firmness, and felt along the ridges with his finger to identify whether it was real or counterfeit; something he had not done for the previous human customers.

“Seems all good. Don’t take it wrongly, friend. This store of mine and myself are new to this city, so I can never be too sure of people. I’m sure you can relate, being away from home and all. Anyway, thank you for your patronage!”

By law, Aremfrid was obligated to wear a green scarf that signified that he was a goblin. Any goblin caught not wearing one would be fined or whipped, depending on the goblin’s status. Aremfrid would damage his master’s reputation if he were to be caught without a green scarf in public, so he limited his venturing into town to whenever the situation called for it.

Today was such a day after he was abruptly requested to write a script of elaborate arguments for his master’s motion tomorrow morning. Papers written for use in the Estates-General required a specific blue ink, as a recent law dictated. Not trusting anyone to identify the appropriate ink, he ventured into town to buy it himself, but since most inner city stores refuse service to slaves or certain races, he went to market outside the walls. Things were cheaper there anyway, and most of the populace did their business there as well.

The shops in-town discriminate against certain folks in order to appeal to nobility and middling classes who do not want to be met with the pitiful sight of a slave trying to buy materials. There are a multiple, often differing, reasons as to why this is, but it boils down to the fact that Lugustians are not the most fervent advocates of slavery, so they seek to discourage it in the public sphere.

Either way, Aremfrid had successfully acquired the desired ink, making his way to the city gate to return home.

“H-hey!” a woman called out to him in the goblin tongue, “Aren’t you a chief?”

The woman stood on a platform wearing a simple rag. Her wrists were bound by chains that connected with several other bondswomen. She had olive green skin, and silver hair; a Crawgoblina, and a fellow Ausmulian at that!

Aremfrid’s heart skipped a beat, and his body darted off by itself in the girl’s direction. He didn’t understand the feeling. He had seen a few goblins here and there, but none from his own tribe. To see someone who shared his heritage, background, and to hear his mother tongue spoken again… it made him feel like a person again.

“Quiet down,” a man spoke, his voice gruff. He twisted back to the people walking by his auction. “She’s a feisty one, ain’t she? Well, fifteen bronze coins and she’s yours! Clean, mid-twenties, and—"

“Excuse me, good master, but I shall take her,” Aremfrid interjected.

The slaver looked him up and down. “Well, well, aren’t ya a fancy one of a kind? Just a second,” he said as he walked off to one of his companions. They shot Aremfrid a look.

While his companion walked towards him, the slaver went ahead and unchained the Crawgoblina, and brought her to his companion, who spoke up. “You know the deal by now, boss.”

“Indeed,” Aremfrid replied as he handed him a silver coin. The companion, his hand on the girl’s shoulder, gave him an unsatisfied look. He gave a light tug on her hair that shone silver like Aremfrid’s. He knew his goblins. Aremfrid handed him another coin.

He grunted in approval. “Here’s a green scarf as well. There’re no other goblins for you to buy today, boss. Come back next week.”

“Always a pleasure doing business, master d’Loutieux,” Aremfrid replied before putting the scarf on the girl and dragging her along.

The girl looked at Aremfrid, and sniffed his scent, deducing that he must have been one of the tribe’s Highgoblins. “Did chieftain Albar send you, chief?”

Aremfrid took her to buy some food and warm clothing as he instructed her on how to get back to the Ausmulii tribe unscathed. The woman’s name was Marald, and she was one of the many goblins bought and freed by Aremfrid. He never told any goblins his name, but seeing as she is from the same tribe as him, he gave her his name and told her to give his brother Albar his regards.

***

Another fourteen years had passed, and Aremfrid turned thirty-five. His master retired from politics and lived out the rest of his time on his estate, writing books, and even getting married to a woman half his age.

By now, Aremfrid had finished his duty to his master, completed his studies, and was satisfied with his preparation for the future. With much melancholy, he requested his master to let him go in peace to fulfill his destiny of forging a goblin kingdom. Valieu stood up, and fetched a jewel-studded longsword. He handed it to Aremfrid and said:

“Go forth in peace, my boy.”

And thus, Aremfrid returned to his tribe, made his way to the new capital Casbriga, and met up with his older brother. Together they would travel the Illgrum peninsula, across Gobland, to recruit allies, and find a way for Albar to become a Goblin King. However, that is a tale for another time…