Fig runs up the steep, roughly eighty feet high hill, with you on his back. Before you reach the top you see two figures standing at the top. But you still haven’t reached the top. You’re not impressed with Fig’s performance. Something must be done about this.

/I’ve seen you run faster from those two lowly mutts before! Do you need a wolf chasing your ass every time to get anything done?/

“W-what?” Fig slows his pace.

/Who told you to slow down!? Move it! And from now on the first and last word out of your mouth will be ‘Sir’! Do you understand?/

“S-sir, yes, sir?” Fig says with no conviction and stops completely. Poor goblin seems confused.

/Who told you to stop? Did I tell you to stop!?/

“N-no,” Fig starts walking up the hill.

/Did I not say to address me with ‘Sir’?/

“Sir… You did, sir,” Fig says and stops again.

/And did I tell you to stop?/

“Sir, no, sir,” Fig says.

/Then why did you stop!? Drop and give me twenty!/

“Huh?”

It quickly dawns on you that this goblin has probably never even heard of a concept of push-ups. There’s no helping it. It might seem harsh, but Fig will thank you later, when he doesn’t die in the fight against Rogzor.

/Do you intend to beat Rogzor?/

“I do!”

/Sir!/

“Sir, I do, sir!” Fig says more convincingly this time.

/And do you think you can beat him without training?/

“Sir, I do not think so… Sir!”

/Was your whole speech about training complete bullshit?/

“Sir, no sir!” Fig shouts, defending his words.

/Do you expect Rogzor to go easy on you?/

“Sir, no, sir!” Figs replies grow faster and louder.

/Do you expect the training to be easy?/

“Sir, no, sir!”

/Then what the hell is this sorry excuse for a run? How are you supposed to grow stronger if you don’t push your body past its limits? When I say run—you run as if your life depends on it! Because it does! Do you get that!?/

“Sir, yes, sir!”

/Then run up this damn hill!/

“Sir, yes, sir!” Fig shouts and sprints uphill.

When he reaches the top you both see two goblins standing, looking at you. One of them is possibly the tallest goblin you’ve seen in this village. He has dark-green skin, brown pants, an old cloth on his head that can’t decide if it’s a headband or a bandana, partially covering his spikey silver hair. He has some semblance of muscle and several scars across his chest and right arm. The scars look healed, but also can’t be more than a couple months old.

The other goblin is much shorter and seems just a year too old to be called a literal kid. His skin tone has a tint of blue, and he has the same style of clothing as the taller goblin, almost like he’s imitating him. His hair is black and is just an inch too short to cover his eyes.

Each goblin has an old, beaten sword at the hip, and they look at Fig with their mouths slightly open.

“Fig, what were you shouting? The tall goblin asks. “Are you alright? And what’s with that sword?”

“I’m… Fine. Just, training,” Fig says. The sprint got his blood pumping, but he’s not completely out of shape, so he’s able to stand straight. “It’s a long story, Dokloram.”

“We’ve got nothing but time here,” Dokloram says with a light smile.

/No, we do not! Go for another lap! Run to the bottom of the hill and up again. Now!/

“Sir, yes, sir!” Fig jolts, turns around and runs down.

“S-sir?” Dokloram mutters confused

Soon enough Fig is down at the bottom of the hill, and then turns around and runs back up. This time he’s clearly winded and breathing heavily. It’s to be expected—running uphill can beat anyone’s ass. Unfortunately, you cannot allow Fig to rest.

/Again!/

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“W-wait!” Dokloram takes a step to stop Fig, but he’s already gone.

Fig barely reaches the top of the hill when you order him to do another lap.

The fourth run uphill really takes a toll on Fig. He braces with his hands against his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Fig, what the hell are you doing?” the shorter goblin asks.

“Fuh… Ah… T-training, ah,” Fig says a word through his gasps for air. “Don’t… Mind me, Gilk.”

/If you’ve got enough strength to talk, you’ve got enough strength for one more lap! Move it!/

“S-sir, yes, sir!” Fig utters and descends down, his tired legs barely prevent him from going into freefall.

“Training?” Dokloram shouts as Fig runs downhill, nearly falling over. “To do what?”

“To defeat Rogzor!” Fig shouts back as he runs downhill, his speed accelerated by gravity, to the point that he nearly falls over, but manages to catch his balance. He takes three more steps before he trips on a rock and slides down the rest of the way, filling his mouth with ashes, and nearly slamming his face against the rocks at the bottom.

/At this rate Rogzor can just sit back and let gravity do his work for him! What the hell was that?/

“Ptuh!, Bleh!” Fig tries to spit out the contents of his mouth with little success.

/That’s the taste of failure! Do you like it?/

“Sir—Bleh, no, Sir!” Fig manages a strong response and wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist.

/Good! If you taste ashes in a fight—you're dead! Now back up that hill you go!/

Fig looks up. He can barely keep his eyes open. Sweat pours from his forehead. Fig winces and tries to clean out his eyes. You see Gilk and Dokloram, standing at the top, looking slightly perplexed as they observe Fig torture himself.

/Move it!/

“S-sir, yes, sir!” Fig mutters and takes the first step.

Fig struggles uphill. Even a baby would be able to tell that the young goblin is done for. One leg, then the other. He's nearly just dragging his feet, as his knees barely bend. Each step uphill takes him thrice the effort it did the last time. He presses his foot into the dirt and pushes his leg muscles to the limit to rise just a step higher. You’d think Fig weighs three hundred pounds. Or that he’s carrying that much on his back.

/Am I that heavy?/

“Haaah…” Fig breathes deeply as he takes another step.

/I asked you a question! Am I that heavy!?/

“Haah, sir, no, sir!”

/Then why are you so slow?/

"S-sir, because, I'm tired, sir..."

/Tired? Will you ask for a pause to rest in your fight against Rogzor? Is this the limit of your resolve?/

"Sir, no, sir!"

/Then go up that hill!/

"Sir, yes, sir!" Fig says about as loudly as can be expected and musters his remaining reserves to power through the last stretch. When he finally reaches the top and collapses on the ground. To Fig, this last run must have felt like an eternity even though it lasted only a minute.

Gilk and Dokloram look at Fig, then look at each other, then look back at Fig.

“Are you alright?” Dokloram asks.

/Shouldn’t you be looking in literally any other direction in case the wargs attack?/ you telepathically beam your thoughts at the carefree duo.

“Waah!” Gilk jolt backward away from both Fig and Dokloram.

“That’s not funny, Fig!” Dokloram angrily says, though by his face you can tell that he doesn’t actually believe it was Fig who spoke.

/Oh, there’s nothing funny here, if you’re supposed to be the ones that keep the farmers safe from attack. Perhaps you could use some proper training too./