“Alright Snotbag, your turn!” Zacharias said, placing his filthy boot in the middle of Meekknuckle’s back and pushing him towards a nearby cot..

Meek stared at the shining jewel that he was cradling against his chest. He’d seen Skrakch and now Winnie mentally crumble upon using the cursed Artifact.

He felt fear as it twisted in the pit of his stomach, and yet there was still something beguiling about the Ruby. He could feel its power emanating throughout the room, as he had the moment he’d first seen it.

Before he could think about it further, he reached out with his Mana and gently pressed his intent against the Purene Ruby’s exterior. It felt heavy in his palm…yet…it also felt oddly familiar? Like he was meant to hold it, meant to wield its might.

The diminutive Goblin blinked, taking in a deep breath as he felt the Artifact’s Mana began to unfurl from the gem, twisting and snaking around his whole body before enveloping him.

Meek’s sight darkened, making the office and Zacharias’ self satisfied smirk fade away. He felt a strong wave of something akin to slumber wash over him before his vision was restored and he could suddenly see an unfamiliar stone ceiling.

‘Or was it unfamiliar?’ Meek wondered, staring at the seams in the construction, before the dreadful truth hammered into him. ‘I’m in Father’s home!’

“Ornn?” Meek called out, as he began to panic, finding himself bound in some strange net. “Ornn!”

The trusty Golem was never a few feet away from him at any given time, ever ready to attend to his every need. Calling out to the stone giant had become second nature.

“Lord Meekknuckle?”

An oddly familiar voice seemed to come from beside him. Meekknuckle stopped his scrambling effort to free himself and dumbfoundedly turned his head to find that he was staring into the eyes of Babbua…

‘But…surely that couldn’t be? Hadn’t she fled the village?’

That had been years ago when Meek had discovered she’d been ear-marked for the Patriarch’s next Harvest, slated to be withered away like so many of his fellow Goblins.

There had been no way Meek was going to lose her to such a horrific fate.

Instead, he’d given her warning, helped her pack some meager possessions in a haversack and escorted her out of the village under the cover of darkness, with Ornn’s help of course.

Their parting had practically broken his heart.

The Patriarch had assumed she’d tried to run and sent some of his faithful zealots into the Sewers to track her down but had barely seemed to care otherwise.

Goblins couldn’t get very far on their own, especially not one like Babbua, who was only good for menial work. At least, that’s what The Patriarch had always said.

“Every Goblin has their role, my son. And none shall deviate from the path laid before them by my own wisdom. It’s a mercy to take them when the time is right, instead of letting them waste away.”

“You’ll understand one day, Meekknuckle.”

Killing his brothers and sisters had driven Meek to hate his father deeply, but the thought of the Patriarch sacrificing Babbua, labeling her as something replaceable? Well, that had secured his father’s fate…

“Lord Meekknuckle seem tired,” Babbua continued in a teasing tone that brought an unbidden smile to Meekknuckle’s face, as she laid a hand across his forehead. “Perhaps you sleep more?”

“Babbua, what are you doing here?” Meek demanded, sitting up as he finally realized what was going on, where he was. He was in the Patriarch’s abode, resting on a pile of clean hay, and the net was truthfully a pile of warmed blankets.

His blankets.

The thought felt wrong to him, but he couldn’t place why. He’d been sleeping in here for the past few years, hadn’t he?

“Meek take a hit to head?” Babbua asked, her face wrinkling with concern. She’d always been a pale green, very wan and exhausted-looking from her thankless chores. But even by the dim light in the mud hut, Meek could tell her skin was now a beautiful apple-green.

Her brown eyes, as inviting as a fresh puddle of mud, were alive. Her hair, which had been stringy and prematurely graying looked shiny and lucious, raven black with a large silver streak at the front, neatly tied back into a bun.

“Babbua, what happened?” Meek asked. He felt as confused as she looked.

“Rest now,” Babbua tried to ease him back down onto the mattress. “I already make sure children fed. They so excited that you back from talk with stupid Uplanders.” She explained tenderly as she pressed her palm to his forehead.

Meekknuckle instantly felt the calming influence of her touch. She wasn’t a healer, and Meek assumed she only possessed the barest wisp of Mana, but her cool palm against his skin felt like… like home.

Babbua smiled down at him, and for a moment Meekknuckle just wanted to melt back onto the comfortable hay and rest his head.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

‘But where is Ornn?’

It was that thought that drove Meekknuckle to push away Babbua’s hand and fully extricate himself from his bed, rushing to the front door of the stone building and throwing them open before… completely freezing in place at the sight that awaited him.

As much as Meekknuckle loved Kxbag, even his best recollections of the underground village he called home were bittersweet at best.

Most of his fellow Goblins lived in hastily constructed tents, or were forced to sleep in large piles with one another to keep themselves warm through the colder seasons.

Light was a rare resource, provided through the occasional bonfire or dimly lit by the odd glowing fungi that would crop up on occasion.

And the people in his tribe were cold, jaded creatures that were more likely to fight each other than band together for survival.

Just the way his Father kept them; Starved, separated… Easily controlled.

‘Only under my guiding hand can Goblins exist in harmony. Without me, all of you would be little more than beasts.’ The Patriarch was oh-so fond of saying, as he demanded resources be collected for his whims.

But the village that spread out before Meekknuckle was unlike anything he could imagine.

Everywhere he looked, Meek could see groups of Goblins working together to build proper stone buildings, each group working together with minimal bloodshed.

Hells, he could even see a group of five Goblins stacked on top of each other to reach the roof of a building, the bottom Goblin passing hay upwards towards the next set of grasping hands.

Staring in bewilderment, Meekknuckle could even see groups of Goblins wielding what looked like pickaxes as they worked on smashing down the sewer walls that had limited Kxbag’s overall size for… for…

‘For longer than I’ve been born, anyways.’ Meek thought to himself as his jaw hung open, the diminutive Goblin unable to process the sight.

Even more unbelievable to the Cleric was the fact that Meek could even spot the far edges of the village, and while it was clear as to how Kxbag was fully lit, he couldn’t immediately comprehend how it had come to be.

A large section of the sewers above the village had been excavated upwards, and in its place rested the largest cluster of crystals Meek had ever seen.

Each of the hundreds of stalactites seemed to glow with light, ebbing and flowing to their own rhythm and lighting up the area around them with a dozen different colours and hues.

If it had just been one such crystal, it would no doubt only serve to brighten the area for a few moments before dimming again, but combined…

‘It’s beautiful.’ Meek stared at the resulting shades of light that played out across the cavern, as individual crystals dimmed and other crystals began to brighten and took their place.

Meekknuckle could have stood there and stared down at his home for hours, but when a little hand slipped into his own, the bewildered Cleric was broken from his revelry.

Looking down at the little Goblin child that had grabbed onto him, Meekknuckle could see the familial resemblance. The little girl looked so similar to the aunts and cousins he’d seen come and go over his lifetime, each stolen away by the Patriarch.

Unlike those memories though, there was no exhaustion on the yellow-ish face that beamed up a toothy smile at him, no hint of fear or resentment.

“Dad, what are you stawing at?” The Goblin asked, scrunching her stumpy nose as she stumbled over one of her words. “Mom said that since you were back, it was your turn to make us breakfast!”

“Leave you Dad alone, Winnie. He make you food in bit.”

Spinning in place, Meekknuckle stared in disbelief back at Babbua as the beautiful woman hefted another child onto her hip, and smirked a grin towards him.

“Me not…” Meekknuckle began to say, before catching himself. “I mean, I’m not sure if I can cook as well as your Mother, but maybe you can help me out… Winnie.”

“Plus we can practice our letters!”

“No!” Came the instant answer, Winnie pulling her hand from his only to run over to her mother. “You can’t make me pwactise, Mom already said we could go play with Uncle Skrakch!”

Meekknuckle could only shake his head as he followed his daughter back into their home, and began making his way to their larder to get started on their morning meal.

As much as Winnie liked to complain, she was already doing so well. And a visit to Skrakch’s was a good excuse to get the kids outside-

In the midst of grabbing a wheel of cheese to start making breakfast, a sudden sense of terror came over Meekknuckle.

He was in danger, his family was in danger. Instinctively, he knew he had to protect them, he had to hold on to the Artifact.

He had to-

—————-

Blinking blearily, Meek found himself back in Zacharias’ office, the filthy wooden floor and the lingering stench of vomit washing over him. His hands were curled as though something had been knocked from his grip, and a sense of loneliness struck him like a physical blow.

It took Meekknuckle a moment before he grasped that the Purene Ruby was now sitting in Zacharias’ gloved hand, the Halfling smirking at him.

“Meek. What the Hells happened?” Winifred asked.

“Ye were in a trance,” Winnie continued, looking concerned. “But it was like ye were…happy? Never seen ye smile so wide,” She shook her head in disbelief. “Weren’t ye seeing all the bad shite that we saw?”

But the Goblin wasn’t really listening to the burly human. Instead, he had his full attention on the smug looking Halfling, glaring at him through narrow eyes. The one who’d stolen Babbua away from him…

“Stupid little snot bag probably didn’t realize what he was even seeing!” Zacharias chortled, only seeming more amused when he noticed the way the Goblin tensed at his provocation.

Which is why Meek leapt at him.

“Oi! What the fuck?!” Zacharias yelled as Meek’s sharpened nails went straight for his face. The Halfling was quick on the draw, throwing himself down through his own shadow and reappearing over to the other side of the office.

Meek snarled and started to charge toward him again until he felt himself in the strong grip of Winnie, the brawler effortlessly lifting him off the ground and clamping his back against her chest as he flailed and struggled in her arms.

Still, all three of the Rogues stilled when an explosive shout grabbed all of their attentions.

“For the love of all the Gods, all of you need to shut the Hells up!” Skrakch roared out as he threw off the blanket that he’d been curled up in.

“Or I will gut the lot of you myself!”