"Goodbye, my dear subjects.!"

Chief Wergnarinth, as he was now called, became the tribe’s newest Highgoblin at the ripe age of twenty. Not as young as my uncle when he ascended, but still wonderfully impressive. Due to me putting him in charge at certain times in our journey to Arobrixa, combined with having to teach a large amount of students, and succeeding in doing so, Wergnar had developed the necessary cognitive abilities to warrant an ascension to Highgoblinhood. The tribesmen granted him the honor name “-inth”, meaning “wise”—a suggestion made by his students who held nothing but respect for his tutelage.

This promotion only cemented him further as my right-hand man, and rightfully so. The man was certainly reliable, and he was to me like my cousin Maxim back on earth, a good friend.

We lingered in Casbriga for another six days. The first two of which, Wergnarinth continued his teaching like before. The third and fourth day, he halved his quota, teaching but two squads. The remainder of the day, he would watch over Gazmul and Rekmun as they tried to teach as well. The fifth and sixth days, they were the stars of the show; Wergnarinth’s sole job now was to spectate and provide them with feedback, after which he would head home to pack up and prepare for the journey. On the day of our departure, we left the town at noon with the same party as our Bugretanian expedition.

Quite a crowd had gathered to see us off, and to our surprise, a freshly ascended Rekmun and Gazmul were among them. Even though they had become Highgoblins, I ordered them to remain captains until I returned, and they gladly complied. If I allowed them to quit their posts, they would leave the town and start wandering the tribal lands helping anyone they could. Maybe that could be fine later, but now, I needed the army to be organized and watch the tribe while I was gone. Shifting the command structures and employing two newbies to be captains was a terrible way of achieving that.

Even though Rekmun and Gazmul had been leading two of the tribes’ three barracks, taking up the roles of teachers was the factor that pushed them over the edge towards ascension. Their guidance lacked in comparison to my right-hand man’s, but they were getting there. And now with their higher intelligence, I’m sure I shall return to find a Casbriga with only Craw- and Highgoblins. That’ll also be the time where I’ll find out what the two captains’ honor names are. The news about their ascension was still too fresh at the moment for them to have gained any.

My men and I trotted on our trusty steeds out of the town gate, and a guard blew his horn to salute us goodbye. I waved back and called out in my native tongue:

“Auf Wiedersehen, liebe Untertanen!”

***

After we left Casbriga and headed southwest towards the capital of the Laiesyces, we soon realized that the lynx craze was not a phenomenon that was exclusive to the Casbrigans. Many an Ausmulian village that we passed through held the same, newfound fascination with lynx-related products. Clothing, heraldry, nomenclature, et cetera.

These folks too were trying to ascend and become stronger in the face of the continued feline menace, and they too were miserably failing at doing so. I decided to slow down our campaign to a slow march rather than a hurried sprint, in order for Wergnarinth and I to instruct them in our newly created education program. If we stumbled upon any settlement that could be classified as a town rather than a village, my buddy and I would make sure that there was at least one educator here at all times. Usually, that would entail the same process we went through back in the capital: summoning the local military commander and tutoring them on how to teach our curriculum to their soldiers and general populace.

By the way, a town is distinguished from a village by having a wooden palisade and a population of at least one thousand people. Optional distinctions that indicate a town rather than a village include aspects like the village head being a Highgoblin and the settlement possessing a trade hub. These were only secondary, though. Towns were few and far between, with Highgoblin rulers being ever more rare. While most settlements were located in proximity to a river, nearly all of them were for sure located on hilltops. They’re naturally defensible, and there’s a plethora to choose from, so why not?

So far, speech differed only in terms of accents, but I assume once we enter Laiesyces lands, speech will differ in dialect instead. I had already noticed a few differences between the Bugretanii and my tribe’s languages. The grimder/lagsrik difference was the first, and the second was the difference in -briga/-brixa, which are both suffixes with the same meaning, namely “hillfort,” but with different pronunciations. Seeing as Frasmul had travelled all around Gobland in his youth, he must have learned all the different dialects, which is why I could understand the Bugretanian speech without struggle. That didn’t mean that I could recognize everything with its goblin term—after all, I didn’t know what a grimder/lagsrik was until someone else told me—but I did understand the words and sentences rolling of the people’s tongues.

Hmm. Wait. Frasmul learning all goblin dialects? Where had I heard that before?

Well, it doesn’t matter right now. After a whopping sixteen days of travel, double the time as when we left for Arobrixa, did we finally arrive at the first Laiesyces establishment—a hamlet. In my pursuit of seeing my subjects ascend and become stronger, I took a massive detour to the north. We spread the Kragnin Educational Curriculum (KEC) further and further, until I finally remembered the main point of our journey, and reset the course back towards the dual-tribe.

The border separating my tribe from theirs was a pine forested mountain range. With the help of guide, we traversed through one of the mountain passes, and made our way to the green, luscious valleys of the Laie subtribe.

The grass and bushes shone like emeralds in the sun, as we voyaged through these fertile fields. Farmland everywhere. Not a piece of dryland in sight. Small hamlets dotted the landscape, each with a large barn in the center, meant to protect all the livestock from the dread lynxes. You could still see the old, abandoned hedges meant to designate the grazing lands of the cattle. Sometimes, if the settlement was large enough, the grazing lands would be put to use, but only under the strict and watchful eyes of the Crawgoblin guardsmen.

The Ausmulii had themselves abandoned cattle, and instead opted for urban livestock. Animals like chickens and goats were kept, fed, and bred by each household inside the village. These domesticated animals were small, manageable, and could walk around the settlement in safety. They provided eggs and milk, and they were easy to feed. All traits that cattle did not really possess.

Whenever we intruded upon one of these Laie establishments, we were greeted with skepticism and distrust. The people here, although mostly isolated from human raids, were less charitable than the Bugretanians. To be honest, I felt more comfortable with that. The Bugretanians’ hospitality was warming and cozy, but it also made me feel like a burden. In contrast, the people in these lands provided accommodation in return for payment. It was mutual exchange rather than charity, so I could feel at ease knowing I was owed this roof over my head.

However, that rarely mattered for my men and I, as the lodgings in the hamlets were way too small to accommodate all thirty-six of us. We had to resort to paying separate households to shelter a man or two for the night, which was more expensive, but at least they were open for the deal. Thankfully, the towns and larger villages consistently possessed inns that could house all of us, so it wasn’t always expensive.

One might wonder why we didn’t simply set up camp ourselves out on the road. Well, that’s because it would require the hauling of camping material, which would slow us down. We’re a band of thirty-ish men anyway, so it’s entirely feasible to stay the night at lodgings.

We were on our way to Coidunum, the capital of the Laiesyces dual-tribe. The place where both their Gnobbles resided, and from which they both ruled. It was a place that could be described as:

“… a focal point of rivalry and competition, as the two Gnobble families struggle to further their own political ideals and motifs,” my uncle remarked.

“What is their main contention?” Wergnar asked.

“The matter regarding the ownership and property,” he answered, glancing back at the two of us to see if we understood. “The Laiesyces suffered not as destructive of a blow as compared to the other tribes, though rather, they were burdened and trialed with a massive flock of refugees more than anything else, prompting disagreement surrounding the legal boundaries of property ownership. The Esyces rule the south of the realm, full of moorland and marshes, thus they were keen to welcome the refugees who could homestead and settle these untenable lands, lending them more income in tithes in the long-term. The Laie opposed this matter, for they knew that any refugee would much sooner settle in the fertile valleys of theirs than in the unhospitable marshlands of their Esyces brethren. They prefer to maintain the social and cultural cohesion of their society, whilst the Esyces desire the development of their backwaters.”

“Ah,” I cringed at the topic, “That’s certainly no simple matter. What are your thoughts?”

Wergnarinth scoffed. “Ain’t it obvious? Though their motives are misguided, it’s clearly better to welcome refugees than to scorn them. These wild cats are our kind’s shared plight; everyone should chip in and help.”

“Senseless rot,” my uncle spoke up, “the Laiens are merely adopting a rational stance if they want to maintain their footing. If the dual-tribe allows a wave of refugees to enter, they shall bring with them prosperity for the Esyces and ruin for the Laiens, for the former will have their lands improved and their treasury bolstered, whilst the latter will have their communities thrown in disarray and their way of life disturbed.”

“Huh?!” Wergnarith wore a scorned expression and aimed it at my uncle. “Chief Aremfrid, do you not want your fellow tribesmen to escape with their lives, or do you only care about whomever lends you the most in annual tribute?”

“Do not speak about matters you are ignorant of, boy,” he retorted.

I tugged the reins of my Zorian, causing it neigh loudly. “Settle down, you two. We know now where we stand, so let’s figure out a solution to settle this dispute. If we make both sides happy, I’m sure we can win their fealty just like we did with high chief Audbernrek.”

“If you were to abandon these frivolities, the solution would be quite simple,” my uncle concluded. “Conquer the dual-tribe by force.”