Vraz walked away from the kitchen with his fingers laced behind his head. Regis had drilled him on the instructions, going over twice what ingredients were needed from the goblin farm.

  Today marked the first day of a fundamental shift in the way they operated. So far almost all of his kitchen time had been spent making meals that were simply given away. But, the food cooked today would be sold. Not just given away freely - but it would be something the goblin tribe would actually have to trade for. Whether it be essence or coins. The details didn’t matter to him. The fact his work was finally going to receive pay felt refreshing.

  A step away from the shell of a goblin he had been so recently. Torn away from those he cared about living in a den of absolute fear in his life. Now, there shone some meaning to it, something worth striving towards. Though, the siren call of revenge loved to whisper into his ear. I will have that too. In my own terms.

  Like any early morning in this lazy tribe- the majority of them were asleep in their beds as the sun rose. Unless a war party was to be assembled, the various workers of the tribe operated on their own schedule. If someone refused to work, then it was Rurk or one of his goon’s job to teach them better.

  Rushing out the cavern on his business, the goblin went over to wake Wort- a hobgoblin Strum said operated the farm. It took three words spoken by that toad-like bastard for him to realize the problem that today would bring. Somehow he thought he was in charge.

  Still, the dumb oaf had enough direction to lead them to the ‘farm’ - which was a small patch of dirt tucked away in the forest. After that, Wort put him to work. Pointing Vraz in the direction of the tomatoes and declaring that he himself would take the onions.

  His sleek goblin fingers wrapped around the orb of goblin-grown tomato. So what if it was a little malformed? It only built character. Light just started to cast its way over the day.

  A ripe ruby orb fell from a vine, into a shabby woven basket as Vraz set to work. The light of day just beginning to fall onto the farm. The faint mixture of herbs and vegetables was quite fragrant from the plants nearby. According to Regis getting this done as early as possible was absolutely vital. This meal had a couple of lengthy steps the sooner he got started the better. Wort still needed to gather the fish too.

  Even now he rushed. Infected by the anxious energy that seemed to flow from the crystal. The goblin heart of his hammering away like a war drum, hands shuffling as they fought an imaginary battle against time. A shallow prayer to Ground-Father below to bless him with finding fine ingredients to work with. One of the most important lessons preached to him by Regis was that ingredient quality could absolutely transform a dish. As much as the crystal could dig under his skin- it knew what it was talking about.

  Two cuts of rabbit meat- one from a scrawny little hare and one from a plump and lazy bunny. Both seared. The difference of taste between them comparable to the difference between him and the chieftain Rurk. One of fine value and morals, the other disgusting and left a bad taste in one’s mouth.

  If you took care of your ingredients, they would in turn take care of you. With that in mind, Vraz shifted his attention towards the big lug helping him collect everything. Currently huffing and puffing away as he dug. Wort was truly something to behold. Ruining whatever had been the onion patch- roots and onions thrown about at random with a hole located right in the middle of the patch where Wort dug deeper than any onion could grow.

  The only other scene next to the chaos of shovel fulls of dirt flying out was a confused goat, whose leather lead currently trailed into said growing hole- tied to the arm of the bulky hobgoblin within. Bleating with boredom as its toad-like hobgoblin caretaker shoveled.

  Vraz simply shook his head. What could you do about something like that? Wort declared himself ‘in charge’ and then set off on this mission of his. Whatever kept him out of the way. And away from these delicate tomatoes.

  It took a good part of an hour, but he harvested whatever he could. His job done with, Vraz walked over to the deep hole, leaning down and looking at the snoring body of Wort. “Wake up, lazy,” the scrawny goblin called down with a scowl. Only to see the hobgoblin simply shift about, uncaring. “C’mon.” Vraz yelled out a little louder- needing the big brute to get up. After this, he had to go fetch fish.

  Wort opened one eye, flinging a glare filled with malice. “Wort boss,” he proclaimed from his throne of dirt deep down in that hole.

  “Sure, Boss. Now you’re done, yeah?” Vraz responded easily, leaning down and collecting some of the onions. The hobgoblin below rolled over and let out a belch. Another shout of “C’mon” finally convinced the lazy bastard to climb out. Rather unsurprising, the hobgoblin refused to help clean the mess he made. Someone was gonna be pissed about this, no doubt, but it wasn’t Vraz’s responsibility. So, like the lazy toad, he too chose not to deal with the piles of dirt and torn apart farm.

  Wort sniffed as he watched Vraz pick up the onions, a hand absent-mindedly rubbing his stomach. “Make Wort food now,” the toad-like hobgoblin commanded. For a brief second Vraz pictured bringing this tyrant to meet Regis, the king of all tyrants. His thin fingers wrapped around a scrawny malformed onion and a small grin crossed his face as he looked at Wort.

  “Tell ya what. I can do that, sure. But you gotta convince the big boss to let you have the first plate,” Vraz threw out the temptation, watching Wort pause in rubbing his belly and frown at him.

  “Wort boss. Strum say so,” the bulky hobgoblin declared, puffing up his chest. But those keen eyes of Vraz could trace just a little bit of uncertainty.

  Vraz grinned at him, offering no consolation or differing opinions. In his mind, the cost of sending him to do this task- was going to be a little bit of entertainment. As far as he understood it, Strum went through great pains to keep the dungeon and this particular employee away from each other. Well, no more. “C’mon then. If you’re the boss, shouldn’t be no issues.” Vraz gestured for him to follow, wicker basket now full of tomato and onion.

  Didn’t take long for the two of them to bypass the plethora of bumbling goblins waking up in the cave system. Most of them clearing out of Wort’s way, before he’d been employed by Strum he’d been known as something of a problem within the clan. A goblin who picked fights, too strong and too dumb for his own good.

  And now? He was an inglorious farmer, cast away to the side cavern, but tended and kept in line by the dungeon. Vraz led them easily to the kitchen- seeing the fire runes sparking at their entrance as the red crystal within quickly floated over to him and around him, no doubt running its attention over the wicker basket he carried within his hands.

  “Somewhat satisfactory, would that I could have a product of a far finer quality and properties, however, we must make do with whatever limitations and setbacks this dreadful farming facility of ours can scrounge up,” Regis hummed out, the dungeon’s words causing Wort to scrounge up his face and hunch over. “Come now, Vraz, my ever loyal employee, a plethora of tasks to accomplish, and you better be up to it-”

  “BIG WORDS MAKE WORT HEAD HURT! STOP OR WORT WILL MAKE STOP!” yelled out the hobgoblin suddenly smashing one of his meaty hands into the countertop next to him. Vraz set the wicker basket of produce down, looking between the two with curious eyes. So it begins.

  “Excuse me? You foul little cretin, who even gave you permission to enter this kitchen, just who in the HELL do you think you are?” The crystal whipped around the head of the toad-like creature, making Wort spin in place and stumble a bit as he tried to follow Regis with his eyes.

  “Wort is boss! Strum said!” declared the hobgoblin, accompanying the statement with one firm chest pound. The impact of which was lost due to the fact he currently swayed in place- dizzy. “Stop big words. Make food! Wort Boss!”

  Flames flared to life from the runes as the temperature jumped up a couple of degrees. The kitchen gave a small shake as Regis froze in place and floated directly between Vraz and Wort. It felt as if the pressure had come down on the room- compressing Vraz and making it hard to breathe. All of that, yet it still couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his lips as he watched the hardass boss of a crystal have to deal with an idiot tyrant.

  “There is little time for these whimsical and downright idiotic fantasies of yours, you utterly incompetent, filthy, and disgraceful imitation of a goblin- You are no boss. You are not even fit to clean the dishes in my kingdom that is my kitchen- I could have you flogged and tossed on a whim, you are no boss but a useless, pathetic little-”

  “BIG WORDS!” yelled out Wort again- a fist flailing forward towards the crystal in response, to completely and utterly fail to connect as Regis easily outmaneuvered him.

  “If this behavior continues I will force you to pay recompense with your utter and complete humiliation before your sorry little tribe-”

  “Stop! STOP PLEASE!” the hobgoblin clutched his head, eyes mad and glaring at the crystal. “Big words hurt head!”

  A small buzz almost like a chuckle came out from the crystal as it paused, considering the hobgoblin, who made another swipe at Regis as he drew closer. “I will not deign to censor my language for a donkey like you- whatever in the name of hell possessed such a complete dullard like you to enter my kitchen is beyond me, now leave before I make you pay for your behavior and transgressions against I- Regis.”

  “Waaaaaaaaahhhhh!” Wort screamed out in response, before lurching forward, trying to throw himself at the crystal, completely unaware as it floated lower and darted between his legs as he charged. Vraz watched the toad-like hobgoblin crash into some of the kitchen equipment, tripping over a pot and falling to the ground. A couple of clanks against the stone ground as the kitchen equipment settled.

  “You dented my pot! Do you have any concept of how much effort I have to undergo to repair the metal structure on that pot- it takes hours of time.” The fire runes still blazed in torrents of flame, and Vraz pulled at the collar of his leather tunic- a bead of sweat forming on his brow.

  Wort groaned in his heap on the floor, it seemed like somehow he’d managed to hit his head. “Wort… Want food…” he protested, holding that thick skull of his with one meaty hand.

  “Of course you do- All of you dense goblins are the same- if it’s not food, it’s greed, if it’s not greed, it’s power. A cycle of desire and incompetence leads to your downfalls. But you shall not have a single morsel of my food, this offense is noted. And you will be refused service. Get out of my kitchen. You incompetent fuck-wit” The crystal hummed out.

  A demure and confused Wort stumbled up to his feet, giving a glance between Vraz and the crystal. Declaring his single confused misunderstanding. “Wort is boss. Why no do what Wort say?”

  “Wort is not boss. Wort was never boss. I, Regis, am the boss.” Regis buzzed out, the fires of the runes beginning to reduce from scorching pillars of rage to pyres of irritation. Once again the crystal hovered near the wicker basket, returning his focus to it.

  “Can Wort… please… have food?” the hobgoblin begged, rubbing his stomach.

  “No.” the crystal shot back, the flames expanding for a brief flare as a reaction to the question.

  “Please?” Wort blabbered again. “Wort hungry.” he patted his stomach, purple tongue lolling out of his mouth as he sniffed in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Will it make you leave my vicinity?”

  “What... ‘vic-in… ity,’ big word hurt. Tummy hurt. Wort want food.” the bulky hobgoblin shot back.

  “Leave the kitchen and I shall have the scraps which would be fit for a hound shoveled into your mouth, you detestable oaf.” Regis buzzed, slowly floating away from said oaf. Having clearly dismissed him.

  A perfect time to interject. “Wort,” called out Vraz, watching the slowly stumbling mass of hobgoblin stop as it made its way to the door. There was still one more job left to get done. “Get the fish for us, yea? You remember like Strum taught you?”

  “This wretch is my employee?” An indignant crystal chimed out.

  Wort turned and looked at Vraz, the two dull eyes of his shouting that the hobgoblin didn’t understand what either wretch or employee meant. “Wort remember. Will get.”

  Vraz shook his head and smiled, ignoring Regis as the crystal began a long stream of obscenities and profanities of rage. It didn’t matter. There was a knife in his hand and some onions to chop. Easy enough to ignore a fuming dungeon when there was work to be done- first, prepare the onions and garlic. From there, they’d move on to the next step.

  By the time they got to step two, the hot-headed crystal would have cooled off. Or have gotten angry at something else- probably Vraz’s cutting technique. Always telling him that he’d lop a finger off- yet how in the name of the Ground-Father would a crystal know about cutting with fingers?

  A mystery for another time.