Gobbroto’ka found himself in great discontent as his [Goblin Commander] rank faced jeopardy due to the utter embarrassment resulting from the job he executed with the forces bestowed upon him by the [Queen]. Regrettably, only a fraction of them remained, with over 80% wiped out, including the sole [Noble Goblin] from the [Frost House] that had been gifted to him.

His comrades, in their ignorance, taunted him mercilessly, oblivious to the harrowing reality he faced. The supposed routine task of snatching a mere [Dungeon Core] had unraveled into a ghastly spectacle. Merely recalling the event sent shivers down the [Goblin Commander]'s spine, as the ceaseless horde of metallic entities carved through half of his forces. The emergence of that monstrous entity from the tunnel, a horrifying amalgamation of [Copper] with death-infused swords swirling malevolently, instilled waves of pure terror into the depths of his soul.

The ensuing battle between the [Noble Goblin] and this aberration was a searing image forever etched in his memory, a sight so nightmarish that sleep eluded him. Words proved inadequate to convey the horror; it was a confrontation between two god-like entities, a spectacle that violently rattled the primal core of his mind. Coupled with the uncountable [Goblins] who met their demise on that fateful day, it pushed him perilously close to the precipice of his sanity.

What could he relay to his comrades? Their companion? The burden of responsibility weighed heavily on Gobbroto’ka's conscience, as he acknowledged that the fault rested squarely on his shoulders. The crimson stains on his hands spoke volumes, and he cursed himself for failing to discern the peculiarities of the request earlier. The allure of 500 wits clouded his judgment, even for an individual of his caliber. The additional fact that the request had originated from the [Queen]'s guard only intensified the blindness brought on by his greed, and now he grappled with profound regret.

Gobbroto’ka trembled, uncertain if he could ever regain his composure. The weight of it all proved overwhelming. Throughout his extensive tenure as a [Goblin Commander], he had never encountered such a profound loss. Shame, regret, and a myriad of other emotions gnawed at his now fragile mind, threatening to unravel the very core of his being.

The impending demand for an answer from the [King] loomed over Gobbroto’ka like a dark cloud. Nothing eluded the watchful eyes of the [Queen], and the fear within him swelled at the thought of the inevitable consequences. The shame and disgrace he had brought upon the [Goblin Empire] would not go unnoticed. He dreaded the possibility of suffering a fate akin to Galgama the faceless, leaving him curled up in a ball, trembling at the mere prospect of losing his hard-earned wits and the esteemed status of a [Goblin Commander].

The world of [Goblins] proved to be relentless, a fact that Gobbroto’ka knew all too well. From the moment he emerged as a [Hatchling] in the [Brood] of the [Queen], he was compelled to fend for himself. His journey to this point had been sustained by sheer luck, but now it seemed that fortune had abandoned him, and the time had come to confront harsh reality.

There was a knock on his door, startling Gobbroto’ka and interrupting his thoughts. Gobbroto’ka didn’t answer immediately. Another knock followed, accompanied by the booming and deep voice of a [kingsman].

“Gobbroto’ka, we’ve come tuh escarrt you tuh the eating'n chamber’n of our’n [King], your compliance would be nice but’n not necessatary.”

Fear gripped him, and he quickly answered.

“Ah cummin’n, jus needt’a fewn things.”

“Make it snappy, ah ain’t werting on yur fa too lorn’g,” came a reply.

Gobbroto’ka scrambled to his [Gob drobe] and bit his finger before placing it on it, willing his most formal and presentable attire into existence around him. There was a flash of green light, and suddenly he was wearing a fancy Lo’reta. Dark green silk with platinum edges covered his entire being, leaving out only his eyes for sight.

This was his favorite Lo’reta, a garment gifted to him by the [Queen] for his commendable service. Even though he was on the verge of a mental breakdown just a few moments ago, putting on the Lo’reta eased his mind. The fine dark green silk with platinum edges covered his entire form, leaving only his eyes exposed. A cool sensation washed over him as he readied himself, the special magics within the Lo’reta working in tandem to soothe his almost shattered psyche.

Gobbroto’ka's mind raced, a turbulent whirlwind of thoughts and anxieties. His current predicament left him vulnerable, having witnessed the decimation of half his army by what appeared to be an ordinary [Dungeon core]. The [Noble Goblins], devoid of sympathy, would descend upon him like ravenous [Gogs], intent on tearing him apart piece by piece until nothing remained. There was no sanctuary in hiding behind them to salvage his reputation; the impending onslaught would be merciless and unforgiving.

The [Noble Goblins] from the [Frost House] would be on the hunt for him. The looming threat of death hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that mirrored the ruthless nature of goblin law. Gobbroto’ka's actions had resulted in the demise of a promising goblin adept in [Frost magic], a transgression that left him marked for retribution. The eyes of justice, or perhaps vengeance, would be directed at him, and in the unforgiving world of goblins, there would be little sympathy for his plight. Only the [king] and the [House of Steam] remained as potential allies, though the outcome remained uncertain.

The [House of Steam] presented a potential sanctuary for Gobbroto’ka, a haven that could shield him from the impending storm of retribution. In exchange for his safety, all he needed to do was offer the valuable currency of information—specifically, insights into anything related to machines or metal. The [House of Steam], known for its fervent pursuit of technological advancements, coveted such knowledge. The prospect of his salvation became more tangible as he envisioned their steam Ru’kas, the pinnacle of their technological prowess. It seemed that if he divulged the full extent of what he witnessed in the domain of the [Dungeon Core], they would vie for his allegiance.

Gobbroto’ka's fate hung in the balance as he made a decisive choice, uttering words that could either seal his doom or elevate him to newfound prominence.

“Oye, me dur’n, take me to the [House of Steam] orn’n yur way’n.”