Service for Service

“Nephew of mine, where did you acquire such military prowess to make an enemy rout that was both superior in number and armament?”

“All-Out Arms: Charlemagne ©.”

“Pardon?”

“Video game.”

“…” My uncle gaped widely, his frown contorted in utter confusion. He sighed and rubbed his nose bridge with his index finger and thumb.

Amongst the smoldering, collapsed houses of Arobrixa, we lingered on our feet as we exchanged a short whisper. We were surrounded by townsmen and the soldiers whom we just fought alongside with, not even an hour ago. The ruler of the Bugretanii, high chief Audbernrek, stood at the center of the crowd, equally coated in blood and dirt as his men.

“O you, who hails from the ancient lands of Bugret!” he began his oration to the crowd, “These last four days, not a wink of slumber has overcome us as we stood guard, night and day, to protect the heart of our community. The one that pumps the blood through all the veins visible on the surface, and those not. The Aro river. Had we fallen here today, this day, our proud tribe would have been naught but dust, our hinterlands razed, and our children and womenfolk murdered. I praise Anz for saving us! And I thank our cousins from the Ausmulii for their ingenious ploy, by which we have done away with the man-menace!”

The crowd, soldier and housewife alike, thundered into a loud cheer. A thunder of gratitude and relief that could only be produced by those who had lost all hope, but found themselves back on their feet.

“High chief Albaric came to us an honest master seeking friendship between our two tribes, and took it upon himself to relieve us from our plight. What say you to our friendship, O those from Bugretan?”

The warriors among the crowd roared—“Our bond is truer than blood!”—while the rest cried a “Hurray!” or “Aye!”.

Audbernrek’s speech had ended. He moved to embrace his men, comfort those who had lost kin, and enact a plan for the hillfort town’s restoration. Seeing him act with such humility and initiative, I could not help but admire him with awestruck eyes. Such was my first impression of the man. It spurred me into lending a hand, much to his satisfaction.

“Uncle, let us extend an arm for the rest of the day, so that we may converse with the high chief at his leisure this evening,” I suggested, wanting to dispel any complaints about wasting time before he even started.

My uncle shot a nettled glance to Audbernrek who nodded in approval of my proposition. “I see. I shall gather the men and instruct them at high chief Audbernrek’s behest.”

The man in question turned his back to us, walked off to the next point of interest, and spoke with an emotional inflection. “By Anz, I shall never allow myself to forget your support on today, this day.”

***

On the rolling hills of Gobland, a troop of horsemen sloped up and down, their horses neighing in light exhaustion. Under the watchful eye of their tribal head, they made their way back to their home town of Casbriga before heading out for the Laiesyces dual-tribe.

That was us. We had spent four months servicing the Bugretanii tribe, helping with the restoration of their capital, as well as with wiping out dread lynx dens and fighting off raiders. I took it upon my self to teach many a Hobgoblin the art of wielding their inner power—their Kragnin. Plenty ascended, making the tribal defenses against human pillagers and attackers even tougher and durable, forbidding defeated enemies from escaping with their lives, nor allowing their superior weapons from dominating the battlefield.

I sicced these goblins on the dread lynxes to further harness their powers. There were two dens of the beasts, and both were wiped out without myself or any of my men interfering. We just spectated, munching on some pigskin popcorn, enjoying the carnage. The Bugretanians beheaded the two alphas and paraded them through nearby towns upon my recommendation, killing the widespread fear of the animals, and welcoming in an age of lynx fascination—just like back home!

Here too a market for lynx-inspired decorations and attire, as well as the beast’s pelts and fangs, was born. No longer did soldiers carry shields with wolf imagery, but instead, they carried shields adorned with abstract silhouettes of dread lynxes. The naming culture also took a new spin, or so I’ve heard. The popular name “Ulf”, meaning “wolf”, had its prominent position taken by “Luch”, meaning “lynx”. Ragnulf to Ragnluch, for example.

Anyway, now undisturbed by these predators who have been dethroned from their position on the food chain, the food supply in the tribe readily increased. With this, the large amount of higher ascendants could be sustained as well. Craws required more food than Hobs, after all.

Not to brag or anything, but we had done a massive service to these people. They were back on their feet, and stronger than ever. Full of gratitude, my works speaking for themselves, their Gnobble Audbernrek—a good-natured, down-to-earth ruler—took a knee and pledged his fealty to me, with his tribe following suit.

Half the time we spent in the Bugretanian lands was nothing but waiting for the chiefs of all the villages to show up and swear their fealty. This would have to change in the future, because having every single chieftain in the land swear their individual allegiance takes far too long, and is too much of a drag. I felt inclined to just institute a feudal hierarchy, whereby only the top guys had to personally pledge to me, while all the lower guys would have to turn to their direct superior instead of me. However, this was still part of goblin culture, so I would bear with it for now. Perhaps I could reconcile the two systems later on.

At any rate, the Bugretanii were in the bag, and now we had to get to the Laiesyces in as well. With my uncle and I leading the company, we galloped on towards Casbriga to rest up and plan for the next excursion. My uncle spoke up.

“My boy, what is your understanding of the Bugretanians’ pledge of fealty to you?”

“What’d you mean?”

“Do you not find it a peculiar notion for a whole tribe to swear fidelity to another after a mere two months of endeavor?”

“Honestly, I expected more pushback too. I was planning on just making an alliance with them. After years of collaboration, they would warm up to the idea of uniting our tribes, and we’d do so as after yet another few years—but no—they just did so after a couple of months, like you said.”

“Indeed. It leads me to believe that your Edekrag is far more advanced than a Gnobble’s, for how else could you make one submit with such ease?”

“Meh. I don’t really know about all these Edekrag shenanigans. I never made conscious use of it,” I objected, “I mean, we did really help them out. So maybe they just appreciated us so greatly, they knew nothing better but to join us.”

“Gratitude would not lead a Gnobble to submit to another—that is a notion most unfounded, never witnessed in our kind’s past ever. Even the hero Olfrik had to subjugate Gnobbles through force.”

“Consider this. We share race, language, land, and culture. Sprinkle in a significant amount of good will, and you’re bound to rapidly build trust between tribes, right? I think that’s really the main factor at play,” I argued, reflecting my days at the university where we would hold seminar discussions on the material we prepared beforehand. Those were fun days, now that I think about it. I kinda miss ‘em, actually…

My uncle smiled faintly, much to my surprise. “I suppose you are correct, my boy. However, I do maintain that your Edekrag played a significant factor as well, so let us evaluate the matter after we consider our success with the Laiesyces.”

I raised my chin up to the right, mimicking a goblin nod of approval. “Let’s do it.”