Kuraura stumbled into the main camp of the goblins, a few miles away from the recon campsite. His thin body shook as he wheezed, gasping for breath. At least he made it back to camp, so he could report the situation to the chief. The camp covered a circular clearing void of trees, about 250 feet in diameter. Several pit houses were dug into the ground, created by excavating the dirt and grass into a small depression, then setting a frame of sticks and covering it in mud and thatch. They were decently sturdy, served as good shelter, and could hold a lot of goblins, which was good, for there were a lot of goblins. Over 50 of the bat-faced freaks were wandering around, eating, sleeping, and fighting with each other, not including the ones hidden within the mud huts.

This camp was created when the chief gathered most of the forest’s goblins with his advisor, a mere year ago. The group had originally been 21 goblins, which Kuraura had been a part of, and it had only expanded so quickly due to the goblin’s high fertility and growth. After a month of getting pregnant, a female goblin could give birth to a litter of 2 to 5 goblins, which would take several months to completely grow up. The female goblins would be ready to mate again within a few days, allowing goblin populations to explode rapidly, given enough resources and time. The current population could have been higher, but the chief limited breeding at the behest of his advisor, giving breeding rights to stronger goblins who served him well. Kuraura knew that his chances of getting breeding rights were abysmally low. Despite being one of the first goblins the chief had gathered, he had been shunned due to his weak physicality, preventing him from getting any opportunities to get stronger. His distinct purple coloring was also considered an oddity by the other goblins, causing them to tease him, calling him Kuraura the runt, although he was truly a runt by goblin standards. Coincidentally, the name Kuraura meant 'aberrant' in goblin language.

Goblin society was based on strength. The stronger one was, the higher they were ranked within society. Kuraura couldn’t wait to evolve into a goblin warrior and become higher ranked within the tribe, though he wasn’t strong enough to drag his way there, unless he wanted to kill hundreds of thousands of insects to get there. As he made his way to the chief’s tent, Kuraura kneeled before the two goblin warriors guarding the entrance of the larger thatched hut, proclaiming his reason for being there.

“Kuraura reports to chief! New task we accomplish! Kill monster!” The two goblin warriors looked at him in disdain, but one went in to relay his message. Shortly after, the goblin warrior walked outside and admitted Kuraura, who quickly scrambled to his feet and dusted off his front before walking in.

The inside of the chief’s hut was significantly larger than other goblin tents. It had to have been at least 30 feet in diameter, and was shared by only the chief and his advisor, and his bodyguard, the three highest-ranked goblins in the tribe.

“Kuraura…” The chief rumbled as he turned to face him. The chief stood at a stunning 5.5 feet tall, bigger than goblin warriors by at a foot. His skin was a darker, deeper green, and his underbite was more pronounced. His body looked like solid rock, muscles outlined against his taut, hardy flesh. Two sharp canines protruded from his underbite, making him look part ogre. A club fashioned from a strange, grey wood lay on the ground next to him. This was the chief in all his glory. Compared to the chief, the other two in the room looked less worthy. The bodyguard of the king was a goblin soldier slightly larger than the rest, with a reverence to the chief which knew no limits, and his strength was top tier among the other goblin warriors. However…Glancing at the chief’s advisor, Kuraura felt a snag of pity rise in his heart. The advisor was pitiful even by goblin standards in terms of physical strength. He was covered in a robe made from animal skins, and wore a wooden mask to cover his face. Feathers adorned the mask, giving him a fearsome appearance, however, his hunched back, raspy breathing and heavy leaning on his staff told of the goblin’s physical strength. Kuraura’s attention quickly snapped back from his thoughts as the chief growled at him. “Kuraura, what. Happen.”

“Kuraura spot monsters eating boar alive, then drag it away. Gorb and team decide to kill them.” Kuraura beamed, pleased to announce the news. If Gorb brought back the corpses of those monsters, they might be able to eat them, after all. Instead of praising Kuraura, the chief leaned over to the advisor, who whispered into his ear. The chief nodded slowly a few times before looking at Kuraura.

“How many monsters Kuraura see?” He growled quietly.

“Kuraura spot three!” Kuraura replied immediately, before deciding that the chief might want to know what type of monsters they were. “Giant centipedes. Kuraura never spot before ever.”

Immediately after Kuraura finished his sentence, the advisor threw back his head, laughing at the sky as the glowing yellow of his eyes could be seen shining from his mask.

“YES! YES! CHIEF! THOSE MONSTERS! THEY HAVE BEEN CREATED BY A DUNGEON!” The advisor cried in ecstasy, “ONLY A DUNGEON COULD CREATE NEW MONSTERS SO EASILY FROM CENTIPEDES! AND IT EXPLAINS WHY THEY TOOK AWAY THE PREY INSTEAD OF DEVOURING IT THEN AND THERE! CHIEF, THAT DUNGEON CAN SAVE US. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! Cough cough…” The advisor’s rant turned into a spluttering cough before he turned to the chief, saying, “We need to control the dungeon, chief. We need to mobilize and take over the dungeon.”

The chief nodded in agreement, grinning. “Dungeon can make goblins for us if we control, make food, defend us. We should take dungeon for ourselves. If we move as tribe, taking will be easy. Our tribe will never break!” With those words, the chief’s bodyguard leaped up in excitement, hitting his head against the short roof of the hut. Rubbing the back of his skull, the goblin warrior praised the chief as the chief nodded. Kuraura was caught up in excitement too, however, he was thinking somewhat differently compared to the others.

Dungeon can create monster from weak centipede?! Kuraura’s gears were furiously spinning. Can dungeon…make me strong? As strong as the chief?! As Kuraura was daydreaming, and the chief of the goblins with his guard burst outside to mobilize the goblins, who all cheered and hooted at the prospect of getting a new, safer home, the goblin chief’s advisor also snickered to himself.

Foolish lesser goblins. Even the chief is a retard compared to me. The goblin shaman sneered underneath his mask. While the chief and dungeon are fighting, I’ll steal the dungeon core and use it as a catalyst to become the strongest goblin shaman in the forest! Anyone with more than a brick for a head knows that dungeon cores store an exorbitant amount of mana, and a low-leveled dungeon who can’t produce high-levelled monsters won’t be able to defend itself. The only problem is that those goblins who went after it probably died inside, but the dungeon can’t possibly summon enough goblin warriors to counter our numbers! When I get the core, none of them will look down on me anymore! I’ll show those blasted nitwits that magic and knowledge rules all! Even the humans will fear my wrath!

Different minds entertained themselves over how the dungeon would be able to benefit them, without considering how the dungeon was also looking to use them for its own benefits. The goblins began to mobilize, gathering their resources and weapons; warriors gathering their weapons, scouts pumping themselves up, and tamers gathering their beasts. The whole tribe began to mobilize to move out and conquer the Dungeon, over 100 goblins, including the elderly goblins and babies, and tens of tamed wolves made their way through the forest. Meanwhile, the dungeon that was their target was busy preparing for war in its own way…