Clatter, as the elderly goblin asked to be called, corrals the children away to return when they know what they want to be named, Amanda helping him keep the excitable young goblins in line. Feathers nods to you as she follows them to the training pit, only to pause as she passes you.

“If more goblins show up, might need more space. Twelve goblins now, should be OK. More, might start fighting.”

You nod, mentally shifting numbers around. Medium rooms cost fifteen stone, an amount which seemed insurmountable not so long ago, but now are less than a days work for your gathering teams.

“Thank you for the warning.”

If you keep a small reserve you should be able to keep up with any sudden influxes. It shouldn't change your plans with Amanda too much.

“Uh... eleven goblins.”

The growling voice surprises you. You run through your dungeon population as you turn. The imps are peaking out form the caves that lead to Goblin Town.

“What?”

The male winces. “Uh, see... we were pretty set on getting our names today but wanted to go ask One-Eye some questions about it and uh...”

Cold rushes your body, but you push the fear back with an effort of will. “What happened to him?”

“Oh no, uh, he's fine. A bit woozy. He was unconscious. But that goblin lady you don't seem to like, the nympho one? She's uh, gone.”

You blink. Then you turn to Feathers.

“Guess the poison wore off?”

She shrugs, apparently unconcerned.

“Maybe. No matter.”

You disagree – if she was physically capable enough to overcome One-Eye and then sneak out of your lair with no one noticing, that's something you'd usually consider a problem. But Feathers seems totally unconcerned.

“Very well.”

You turn to the imps.

“Thank you for informing us. Now, names?”

“Keth,” says Keth.

“Sith,” says Sith.

You nod at the pair. “Good names. Thank you for joining us. Is there anything else?”

Keth, the male imp, wrings his hands until Sith floats forward.

“You're making a second floor, aren't you?”

You nod. It's not a secret.

“We'd like to be considered to be moved up there. The goblins and kobolds have good homes here, but we feel out of place, coming in and claiming space that was not made for us. We'd rather help upstairs.”

You pause for a second, considering them. You'd been planning on possibly evolving one of the new goblin arrivals, but Sith is right. They belong down here in a way that the imps don't. Even if they had been attracted by the demon trees, said trees are uniquely useful to Mercy. There's a reason there were non before your experimentation, after all. Demon and nature mana don't mix.

You chew the inside of your cheek for a moment more, letting them stew.

“Perhaps. But it is not really me you need to convince, and there would be... complications”

“Who do we need to convince?” says Sith, voice filled with determination and only slightly undermined by Keth saying “Complications?” in a slightly squeaky growl.

“Amanda will be controlling most of the second floor, and it's her vision on traps and aesthetics that inspired the build. If she decides she can't use you then that's the end of the matter.”

Both imps seem put off by your ultimatum, exchanging a glance. You roll your eyes and continue.

“I'm not a dick, if that happens then you guys can have a think about what you want to feel more at home down here and we'll work on that. But honestly having you move upstairs would be convenient for me so I'm hoping you'll still be willing.”

Sith jerks her head in a nod, and then repeats Keth's question. “And the complications?”

Before you answer, you spin up your fame menu and find the option you want. Double checking that both demons are acceptable targets.

“I want to evolve you. If the process is anything like it was for myself, it will be purely positive. But it will change you. Change your body. And not in a way I can predict without using it on you.”

Sith barely lets you finish before she blurts out “I accept.”

You hold up a hand to stall her. “Slow down. I only have enough Fame right now to evolve one of you, and there was significant growth involved when I evolved – to the point it's now difficult to be intimate with some of my lovers.”

The two imps both flush purple, Keth looking down and Sith leaping sideways in the air until there was over a foot between them.

“We're not-” Keth starts.

“He's not-” Sith cuts him off, before both of them stutter into silence.

“Well,” you shrug, “That does simplify things, but you're still skipping past the part where you need to talk to Amanda.”

That seems to calm the two imps down, and you give them a moment before you turn and lead the way through to the fighting pit. It's not hard to guess that's where Amanda is, seeing as you can hear her chanting interspersed with Feathers' barked orders and the children's squealing from here.

When you arrive, you're treated to the site of your arena being used for it's purpose for perhaps the first time, as opposed to a simple training pit. Clatter and three of the new goblins are sat near the stair well, gate currently lowered. Feathers is stood about a third of the way round, shouting insults and suggestions to the last of the goblin children, who is frantically dodging attacks from a skeletal snail – or perhaps an amalgam of bones in the shape of a snail – which moves with distinctly un-snail like speed across the sand. Amanda completes the circle, necromantic focus clasped in her hands and a look of concentration on her face, her eyes locked on the little goblin.

When said goblin trips, his knife going flying, and the snail goes for a crushing, smothering attack, Amanda's eyes flash with green light. The attack stalls as a similar light flashes from the snaileton's finger bone eye stalks before it rears up far further than would be needed and giving the goblin a chance to roll out of the way and reach his knife. Feathers screams in rage, spitting curses in goblin before shouting out a command. The young goblin bows his head and returns to the steps, to be replaced by one of the young females.

“Want to place a wager sir?”

You startle at the unexpected voice. Charlemagne is stood next to you with a thin sheet of slate in his hands. Chalk has been used to inexpertly scratch out

Amanda:

Goblins: III

“What, on if this goblin will win?” you shake your head, not liking those odds.

“No. On how many goes it will take before they do. Or,” his smile takes on a bloodthirsty tint, “How many Amanda's minions will kill before she manages to regain control.”

You shake your head more. “Suckers bet. It's going to take more than half an hour in the arena before they have any skill, and I need to borrow Amanda.”

The cook scowls. “Damn. I suppose that means I should pay One-eye.”

You pause mid step. “Why, what did he bet?”

“Gum kappa grul. It means... well, it literally means 'angry bears attack', but it's an expression for someone more powerful than you coming and stopping the fun accidentally. Like the chief eating your racing rabbit, or... well, or angry bears attacking.”

You shake your head. “Well there's an insight to life in the forest that I'm not sure was warranted.”

With that, you push past him, imps in tow.