Mountain Goblins

Firelight licked at the damp rock walls, casting the cave's shadows into flickering light and darkness.

Several Mountain Goblins sat around the campfire. The skinned Blind Mole-Rat crackled as it roasted. Yazi lifted a battered copper pot and set it aside to cool, then pinched up a bit of coarse, low-quality salt and slowly sprinkled it over the mole-rat meat.

Urgent footsteps crossed the narrow plank walkway and burst inside in an instant.

"We got a clear look this time."

Trailing a chill, Shattertooth rushed straight to the campfire. "They really are headed for the plateau. There were four young dragons in total. One flew west, while the other three stayed by Snake-Eye Lake, waiting there. They were extremely vigilant. We only watched them for a moment before they noticed us."

Two Mountain Goblin warriors followed behind him, both breathing heavily.

"Didn't I tell you not to stare at them head-on?"

The elderly Mountain Goblin behind the fire sounded displeased. His eyes were cloudy, his body hunched. "You said they were young dragons. Just how small were they?"

Shattertooth jerked his chin at the two warriors behind him. They moved apart, one standing on this side of the fire, the other retreating to the far side, gesturing out the length as the firelight flickered between them.

"About this big."

Shattertooth said, "The largest was this long—tall and sturdy, black with a purple sheen. The other three were all white, much smaller than it."

"About six or seven meters."

The old Mountain Goblin nodded. "The dragon lords who came before were all black. They were called Iron Dragons. Six or seven meters is just a hatchling by a dragon's standards. They should be its descendants. As for the white ones... we haven't seen those before. They're small too, perhaps its attendants or companions."

The cave fell silent for a moment.

The larger the monster, the stronger it was; dragons were no exception. This was a truth the Mountain Goblins had paid for with generations of blood and lives. It was simple, but rarely wrong. Dragons six or seven meters long were not weak, but compared to those dragon lords that could blot out the sky and cover the earth, they were still far behind.

"Just four dragons? No servants following them? Gnolls? Scalebound?"

The old Mountain Goblin pondered for a moment. "There should have been Kobolds, logically speaking."

"There was nothing."

Shattertooth shook his head. "We checked everywhere, before and after. There were only those four young dragons, all alone, like they'd been driven out. My guess is that the one circling above us earlier was gathering intelligence, just like us."

Yazi slowly stroked the bone knife at his waist. The firelight did not reach his face. As the leader of the Mountain Goblins, Yazi was even larger than Shattertooth, yet he merely listened to their conversation and remained silent throughout.

"How many dragons there are, how many servants follow them—it doesn't really matter."

Only after a long while did Yazi slowly speak. "The key is figuring out what they came for. Did the Ashmark Lineage send them to scout the Mistveil Mountains because it intends to advance into them? Did they come to collect scale tax and seize laborers? Or were they truly driven out and exiled?"

"What scale tax do we have left to pay?"

Shattertooth sneered. "The dragons took everything from Windsong Plateau. They didn't even leave us cattle or sheep. Everyone's so poor their pockets jingle with nothing but air—we couldn't pull a few hairs out from between our legs. Whatever they want, they can take it all. But if they want laborers..."

"No matter what, they came to take."

The old Mountain Goblin sighed in a low voice as well. "Dragons create nothing. They only plunder, occupy, devour, destroy, and wait for a land to collapse in despair before beating their wings toward another place. It is a cycle. Every time we spend ten years recovering and multiplying, they return. Lord Veloa, Lord Zane, and now these newly born dragons."

"I wasn't finished."

Shattertooth bared his teeth. "Whatever they want, they can take it all. But if they want laborers, then no matter what, no one will agree this time. If the dragons won't let us live, then we'll fight them to the bitter end."

"Fight them?"

The old Mountain Goblin was displeased by his attitude. "What nonsense. What do you have to fight with?"

"Why can't we fight?"

Shattertooth glared. "Withered Vine, you've lived so long. Tell me—how formidable can a young dragon only six or seven meters long be?"

"At least a Sixth-Level Disaster."

"A Sixth-Level Disaster."

Shattertooth repeated the words forcefully. "We have three hundred Mountain Goblin warriors who can wield blades. The tribe spent ten years raising us. We eat the best food and use the best supplies. No matter how vicious dragons are, we are not afraid. We will protect our tribe with our lives. So long as the leader gives the order, we'll chop off their heads."

"Bullshit!"

Withered Vine flared up as well. "Even Wom wouldn't dare say such a thing. Who do you think you are? You only grew such dog-guts because those dragons looked small. What do you take them for—wild beasts for you to slaughter at will?"

"Even exiled dragons are still the masters of the Lost Wilderness. If you dare touch even one of their scales, disaster will be upon the Mountain Goblins tomorrow, and the entire tribe will be wiped out!"

Withered Vine ground his teeth. The wrinkles on his face twitched. "Do you know that the Ashmark Lineage has ten warbands? Every warband has five thousand men, all warriors clad in iron armor and armed with iron blades. They only need to send out a single warband to sweep across Windsong Plateau. You spout nonsense here so casually, but if war truly comes, would you dare use your flesh and blood to test those iron armors, to charge at real dragons?"

Shattertooth's face flushed crimson, veins bulging along his arms.

Withered Vine turned away as if he had spent all his strength speaking and had grown much weaker. Looking at Yazi, he said, "Leader, no matter what, we should prepare early. My suggestion is that if necessary, the tribe should flee to the other side of the mountains first."

"It's just as hard to survive over there. The Mistveil Mountains have even more strange monsters, and the ogres of Bloodridge often come over to raid. Recently, some warriors have also said they found enormous claw-shaped footprints at the edge of the mountains. No one knows what terrifying reptile left them. It might be a dragon too."

Shattertooth breathed heavily and said in a muffled voice, "Either way, it's a dead end."

"You're still talking!" The old Mountain Goblin was beside himself with rage.

"Eat something first."

Yazi interrupted their argument, patting Shattertooth on the shoulder. His tone was calm as he called to the other two Mountain Goblin warriors. "You ran all the way back from Snake-Eye Lake. I'd be exhausted too. You two, come eat with us."

Shattertooth approached the fire and sat down with his two companions. Two Blind Mole-Rats were roasting over the flames, nearly dried out completely, their skins charred and their flesh shriveled.

He reached out, tore off a piece of back meat, and stuffed it into his mouth to chew.

The rat meat was foul and sour. After only two bites, a wave of rancid stench surged up, churning his stomach like rivers and seas overturned.

Before the taste could rise all the way up, Shattertooth grabbed a damaged iron helmet, scooped some broth from the copper pot with practiced ease, and poured the liquid mixed with rye husks into his mouth, swallowing it together with the rat meat.

The Mountain Goblins around him were used to this.

"The problem now is that we still do not know these dragons' purpose. We also do not know whether these young dragons bearing the Ashmark Lineage's battle banner only bully soft persimmons or dare to chew hard bones. If it's the former, we must retreat into the mountains. If it's the latter, we might even profit from it, using them to drive Wom and the Bearfolk back west."

Yazi pondered slowly and made his decision. "Guessing here will never produce an answer. Here is what we'll do: in the name of pledging loyalty to the Lineage, I'll go meet those dragons and speak to them directly to learn the details."

"Dangerous!"

The Mountain Goblins spoke in unison. Shattertooth hurriedly added, "Those young dragons are like wild beasts, all claws, fangs, and sharp teeth. The light they spray from their mouths is bright and flashing. They kill the giant snakes in Snake-Eye Lake like chickens. The leader may be the strongest warrior in the tribe, but if those monsters leap at his face, I'm afraid even he'll have trouble fending them off."

"Dragons are intelligent beings, not monsters. Even Lord Zane, cold as he was, did not kill people without reason in those days."

Yazi looked over their expressions and gave his orders. "I'll take two warriors with me. Shattertooth, keep watch from behind. Withered Vine, have the tribe prepare in advance. If I am captured or meet with misfortune, don't think of doing anything else. Retreat into the Mistveil Mountains first."