MBGSP - Chpt 11 thru 14

Early post schedule for MBGSP has been accelerated somewhat, in part because releasing chapters is addictive, and in part because I was too excited to not share it. So, here are the advance chapters for the several updates on Patreon, as well!

Chapter 11 - Alternate Caloric Sources

I hadn’t wanted to militarize the tribe. I’d wanted to industrialize it. But it seemed like goblins weren’t high-tier in a fairly hostile world full of things that wanted to eat them, and the biggest thing I needed, even more than clay or fire, was more goblins. Plus there were other sentient races to consider. I’d found Rufus during lucky circumstances, but I’m sure he was far from the norm where interspecies relations were concerned. He has half dwarf, half something else—which gave him something of a leeway in multiple communities when it came to trading.

There were human kingdoms, presumably with soldiers and standing armies that would sweep aside a small village of goblins without breaking a sweat. The only saving grace was that most of them seemed to be across an ocean. So, we were remote enough and unimportant enough that it probably wasn’t worth the logistics effort to come clear the forest of goblins. Yet. Armored foes would need more than stone spearheads. And what would happen when the time came? Could I realistically kill a human? Above all else, I was a scientist, an engineer, and an explorer devoted to the betterment of all mankind through the progress of aerospace technology.

 We had to get numerous, but we also had to be ready when we were finally noticed. The best deterrence to violence is a big stick, after all. That meant defending ourselves, through technological ingenuity, if not through strength of arms. Reluctantly, I took my cadre down-stream.

There were definitely fish in that stream. One of my highest priorities for the tribe was finding a source of protein that didn’t also eat goblins. That would be a valuable food source if the village kept growing, which it would have to do. I had the group fashion a few stone spades using the poles I’d brought and used them to dig up some worms and grubs to use as bait.

I’d never been fishing, but I’d spent a lot of time out on the water and talked to a lot of fishermen in the watersports clubs, so I had a vague idea of what you had to do. I arranged my goblins along the bank, each one with a pole and a small bone hook with a small rock weight tied to the base. I went down the line and baited each hook. I had to pull the hooks out of the mouths of two goblins that couldn’t resist eating their own bait before I got everything sorted.

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Sticky-fishy poles>

Excellent. Understanding passed rapidly through the chittering bunch, and they started casting. After a few minutes of watching them, one of our goblins had a bite. He started to pull and was promptly yanked off his feet with a squawk of alarm. Whatever he’d hooked—all I saw was a long, dark shadow beneath the water—dragged him through the river at high speed, and the rest of the goblins dropped their poles, chasing after. He was quickly gone from sight. A few minutes later…

<Tribe reduced to 33 members.>

 This time I assigned two goblins per pole, making sure they knew to let go of the pole, if whatever they hooked managed to shift both of them.

Since there was an odd goblin left, I took him and went looking for the spot I’d noted northwest of the bluff. It took some luck and doubling back over a few criss-crossing goblin paths, but I found the spot I’d marked feathers on the ground. I collected all I could find, and then climbed the tree to see if there were any eggs. As luck would have it, there was one in the nest. It was a bit smaller than an ostrich egg, which made me wary. A bird big enough to have laid this was definitely a bird that could make a snack out of a goblin.

I stole it anyway. and climbed back down. Calories are calories.

<Tribe reduced to 32 members.>

I didn’t have to wonder what had happened for long. A distant crack echoed across the forest. One of Sally’s goblins must have accidentally ruptured or dropped one of the fruits. The things were dangerous, to be sure. A plan began to form in my mind, but I didn’t have everything I needed just yet.

We returned to the fishermen to find a modest pile of fish, and a suspicious pile of fish bones. I gave a few goblins the evil eye, but they have zero poker faces. But at least we knew fishing worked. Still, I wanted a plan to pull whatever river monster had dragged my goblin to the depths. I wanted to get out on the river, too. But boating wasn’t an immediate priority.

“Bring back the catch before dark, we’ll fry it up.”

I probably didn’t need to say that. The goblins put a lot of stock in all being back in the village before nightfall. I’d been awake at night, so I knew it was plenty bright enough for them to still function—especially with the huge moon overhead catching the light of the sun at low angles. Which made me think the woods must be even more dangerous at night with predators prowling the goblin trails.

Chapter 12 - Goblin-Go-Round

I returned to the village with my egg to find several fires going, and Buzz looking quite pleased with himself. The fire carousel ended up being basically the reverse of a traditional fire drill. Instead of spinning a stick against a piece of wood on the ground, they’d put a pole in the ground, and several goblins clung to a wide piece of wood above it as they spun around in a dangerous-looking teeter-totter. They applied both momentum and pressure, and after watching for a few moments, the wide piece of wood lost a goblin and the whole thing toppled over.

By then, the tip of the pole had been ground down to a smoldering red ember, and the goblins quickly pulled it from the ground and touched it to a bed of tinder while two others puffed at it. Soon, they had a small flame. One thing I was beginning to realize is that any given task given to the goblins, the greatest metric of success was the number of goblins committed to it.

In the engineering world, it’s common knowledge that you can’t solve problems simply by throwing more bodies at them—though the government still tries to do just that. In fact, it generally slows progress down. Well, with goblins it seemed like it was just the opposite.

“Once we got a couple o’ us onner, we figured things out,” said Buzz, nodding along. “Though, truth told, Sally’s more fer tinkerin’ with gizmos.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “What would you rather be doing?”

“Partial to buildin’, meself. Village needs work, yeah?”

“I’ve got some projects in mind.

I watched the goblins working at their carousel. When I’d unlocked the goblin counterweight, I hadn’t expected it to be a technological prerequisite for starting a fire. Maybe they just didn’t have the weight or arm strength to tackle the problem the way a human would.

“I’m impressed,” I said to Buzz. I held the pilfered egg out to him. “Think we can get this bad-boy cooking?”

Buzz took the egg and dropped it whole onto the tinder bed. Well, I guess that was dinner sorted. Fish and eggs, not exactly an appetizing combo, but things were a bit austere.

I kicked around one of the older fires and found a small stick with a decent char at the end, then rooted around for a wide piece of bark. Then I sat down to sketch while I waited for the rest of the goblins to come back.

Sally brought her team up to the village just before the sun slipped behind the moon. The fishermen returned shortly after that with a sticky-wicky full of small fish that were put on poles to lean over Buzz’ fire.

by the time dinner was ready, I had a decent—well, rough sketch of the parts I needed. I called Buzz and Sally over as I gnawed at a charred fish and showed them the drawing.

“Ideally these would be made from clay or ceramics. But do you think we can carve these parts out of wood?”

Buzz looked at Sally, then turned back to me. “Sally ‘recons she could get it done, boss.”

“Good,” I passed over the sheaf of bark drawings, which Sally took eagerly. I gave Buzz a look. “Can you understand the other goblins without speaking?”

“Of course, boss. Innit a bit weird you can’t?”

“This whole thing is a bit weird,” I admitted. I took a few minutes telling Sally how to interpret the drawings, and how the parts should be made. The goblin nodded along. Her eyes bugged wider with each drawing. I don’t know if her enthusiasm was for the opportunity to make some mechanical bits, or if it was based on no longer being on bomb-fruit detail. Either way, it was one more step toward walking on that moon.

One small step for goblin-kind.

The lethargy started to take me.

                            *

<Your tribe has decreased to 32 members.>

<Your tribe has increased to 37 members.>

It was a net gain, since I’d only lost three goblins the previous day. Still, it seemed almost as though at least a few were bound to go the way of the dodo at the slightest breeze. It just went to highlight how vulnerable goblins were, and how royally screwed they would be if their reproductive method wasn’t as effective as it was mysterious. I pulled myself from the bottom of the pile of 12 or so goblins and stretched.

Buzz and Sally came to see me in the morning with another goblin in tow.

“This’n saw sommat come inner camp n’ drag off ‘is brother,” reported Buzz.

“I see,” I said. I considered. If we were going to grow, we couldn’t lose goblins to predation. I’d have to see to the villages defenses.

“Put five goblins on building a wall of poles on the shallow side. Hopefully that will keep out curious beasts. Pick fifteen to go hunt and fish, and the rest to processing some thicker poles.”

“Got it, boss,” said Buzz. He meandered off while Sally held up the drawings from the night before. I noticed that she’d tried to make a few of her own, mostly of things like birds and bugs, but one or two of spearheads, and one of a spear with a stone cross-bar with two stick-figure goblins holding it together.

“We’ll make an engineer of you, yet, Sally,” I said.

Sally beamed.

“Pick whoever is best with tools to help you make these parts. I’ll be working along-side you in the village today.”

Sally nodded enthusiastically and dashed off to collect his team of engineers, mostly by a combination of shouting, biting, and hitting them over the head with the designs. Perfect project manager material.

Chapter 13 - Sticky-Springy  Stilts

For my part, I went to work on a different project. One a little closer to home. There were plenty of tools around. Goblins left to their own devices seemed to love tinkering and crafting things now that I’d introduced technology to the tribe. I picked up a selection of small knives, a saw, and an augur. From the wood pile, I grabbed two promising-looking pole-ends that were roughly the same size.

Next, I retrieved the stone-sloth claws from the bone pile, as well as some leftover gut string the goblins had made from its intestines. I tested the claw against the ground, seeing how pliant it was, and how it had connected to the knuckle with a knobby tab.

I went to work using the knife as a chisel to hollow out two depressions in each of the pole-ends until they were about a hand’s span deep. Then, I flipped them over and drilled two holes on the underside with the augur, which was more complicated to use than I thought it would be. Once I had that, I checked the size against the claws, and started making small adjustments with a knife.

<Your tribe has decreased to 36 members.>

Damn. I looked up. It was barely mid-morning. The rest of the goblins were going about their business. It must have been one of the hunting party members. My heart thudded in my chest while I waited for a string of tribe-size messages to come in. After a few more minutes passed without additional notifications, I went back to work. I had to get in the mindset that I was going to lose tribesmen no matter what I did.

I’d figured the system was just being cold and callused when it warned me not to get attached. But Tribe Apollo might as well have had a revolving door. Goblins could die and be replaced with new, fully-grown goblins daily. Most of them would never even have names. Was there even any such thing as an old goblin?

I got the long, curved sloth claws fitted into the slots I’d carved for them, then went to work smoothing the interior of the cups and packing them with down that I’d collected from the bird’s nest, and some fur clumps from the bone pit. I cut a long, thin wedge out on the front and back, then gouged circular grooves near the top.

Around mid-day, the sun dipped behind the moon, and I took off the sticky-stilts and tried the fit of my new prosthetics. On earth, I’d had a sleeve go over my residual lower legs, and they’d laser-scanned my residuals to print me a perfect fit for the prosthetics. Here, I was just eyeballing it.

The hunting party returned as well, climbing over the edge of the bluff with a couple carcasses in tow. At least one was a mangled clifford that was definitely hit with a popper, but they also had a few fat birds and one small mammal that might have been something close to a beaver. And, sure enough, they had one less member. I wondered if it was the clifford, the beaver, or the bomb-fruit that had done it. Half of them set to skinning the kills, while the others worked at getting a fire going using Buzz’ fire carousel method.

I went back to my work. The left one fit decently enough, but the right was too tight. I took the padding out and shaved the sidewall down a bit more, then re-packed it and pulled it on. Better. Finally, I took the gut and used some of it to secure the claws in their notches, and the rest to wrap around the grooves and tighten both sockets around my legs.

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Sticky-springy stilts>

I hoisted my new feet into the air and twisted them around, looking at the angle. These were certainly heavier than my old running blades. But the flat, wide claws of the stone-sloth had a remarkable similar profile and not all that dissimilar flex profile.

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Whirly wheels>

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Toothy-gears>

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Cranky-cranks>

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Sticky axels>

Those ones hadn’t been me. I guess it was time to take a look at what Sally’s team had accomplished. I pushed myself unsteadily on my feet and tested the strength and balance of the sloth-claw prosthetics. They had a bit more give than I was used to with this design, but they were worlds better than teetering around on poles tied to my lower legs.

I took a tentative jump in place and was surprised with the spring-back flipped me ass over teakettle right into the bone pile. The other goblins started to take notice and stopped to watch and point. A few even laughed. Can’t say I blame them.

 Not to be deterred (every great scientist and engineer was laughed at in their time), I got back to my new feet again and took a few tentative steps. It was almost like walking on a trampoline, or maybe those old bouncy shoes that looked like death hazards.

I got the hang of it pretty quick (so quick I had to wonder if that was a feature of the Goblin Tech Tree) and picked up speed around the village.

The goblins were still laughing, but now I think they did so out of excitement and amazement. Several of them chased after me, hooting and hopping. This time, they had trouble keeping up with me. No longer would I be a burden if we had to beat feet.

What was more, I could run, again. Not hobble, not waddle, not crawl, but run. Not fast, or I’d lose control, but still. The two years of rehab after my accident were the most excruciating time of my life not because I was in constant pain from surgeries and recovery. But because I didn’t know if I’d ever walk again. Running, rowing, biking. Anything that let me move fast made me feel alive. I had refused to give up. Refused to let myself be bound to a chair. Slowly, I’d gotten my life back. And I hadn’t realized it, but my new goblin life hadn’t been complete until I had that feeling once again. I didn’t know if I’d be able to go through that again.

This, more than anything else, convinced me that I could figure it out. I could survive here, build my tribe, master the goblin technology tree, and reach the giant moon, Raphina. Sure, there were a lot of steps along the way. But like I said, I like to move fast.

Chapter 14 - Sticky-Flicky Slingers

After my brief jaunt, I headed over to Sally to see how her team had come with the parts I’d given her to oversee.

The majority of it was garbage. It’s not that the goblins weren’t diligent, especially under Sally’s constant percussive encouragement. They just struggled to understand the engineering schematics as thoroughly as I’d have liked. They’d managed to produce gears and levers and cranks, but many of them had irregular teeth or oblong shapes. The first place I saw them employed naturally was on the cooking spit so that the chefs no longer had to leap into the air to turn the spit. Instead, they’d grasped the idea of angular transference and now had a system wherein two of them could turn the spit like sailors working a capstan. While they weren’t great inventors, they were seemingly very clever at implementing applications for the technology I unlocked for them in ways that greatly complemented goblin physiology.

I had to sort through the parts in order to find what I needed. Sally watched curiously, even as she continued her unique brand of leadership on anyone she thought might be slacking. But, by mixing pieces and parts, I was able to connect a pair of lathes to a long body with a runnel going down the length, and a hooked bit of wood through a slot to make a lever. After that, I secured a string across the lathe and fed it through a sort of sledge that fit along the top rail. Finally, I fit one of the crank levers to the top and used it to push back the sled until it locked. Yes, since I know you’re wondering, I made a crossbow. But not one for shooting stone arrowheads.

All eyes were on me now, including Sally, who had paused mid-blow. I kicked around on the ground until I uncovered a smooth rock, about the size of my little blue fist. I fit it to the sledge, aimed it at a nearby tree, and pulled the release.

The entire thing exploded in my hands. The body snapped in two, and the lathes shattered practically into sawdust. It knocked me back on my ass, and the rock and the sledge bounced off my forehead.

Luckily, it hadn’t been lethal damage, because I didn’t get the system message that another goblin had died in my place. I set the wreckage aside, ignored all the laughing goblins making explosion noises to each other, and went back to the parts pile while some of my tribe laughed so hard I thought I might lose a goblin from asphyxiation.

Prototype, test, iterate.

That was the name of the game. I went to work assembling the second prototype. This time I chose parts that were a little heavier, but sturdier. I couldn’t shoulder the crossbow, I had to pinch the back end between my elbow and side as I lined up the shot.

The release took more effort than I was expecting, but once it slipped, that sledge rocketed forward like something to come out of the JPL. The lathes straightened in an instant, and the stone shot out of the sledge, whipping forward to impact the tree with a serious thud. Bark sprayed from the impact.

Every goblin in the village dropped what they were doing and came to marvel at this new invention.

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Sticky-flicky slinger.>

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Simple bullets.>

That seemed an apt description. I spotted Sally among the onlookers and handed the crossbow and crank over to her. “This is what you’ve achieved today,” I said. “A shot to the noggin on one of those cliffords and they won’t be looking to munch on any goblins until they stop seeing double.”

She looked down at the bow, then back up at me.

“You want to build more inventions, Chief Engineer Sally?”

Sally swallowed, and then opened her mouth and uttered one word, so softly I wasn’t even sure she had said it.

“—yes—”

Good. Good. I grinned and watched as Sally cranked the sledge back and loaded it with a stone. The bow held, and the rock flashed out, sailing past the tree that I had aimed for and over the edge. I had thought about, and subsequently dismissed, the idea of simple bows and arrows for the goblins. The fact is, they simply weren’t strong enough to draw something with enough weight to pierce the hide of anything larger than a Clifford, and probably weren’t patient enough for the hours upon hours it took to get good with a traditional bow. But crossbows use force-multiplying levers to reset them and you can aim them somewhat accurately, even with just a little practice.

Well, you know how goblins are. The technology spread across the village, and suddenly every furry Jones had to have a sticky-flicky slinger of their own to hang above the fireplace. Over the next hour, the village became a hailstorm of stones as goblins lined up at the impromptu firing range for practice. Small stones actually started to become scarce on the hilltop, which gave a few goblins an excuse to fling themselves off into the forest below to collect more.

There were a few more critical failures. The worst of them resulted in an amputated leg, but the other goblins were quick to cap his stump with a sticky stilt, amazingly staunching the bleeding entirely. Amazingly, that goblin went right back to tinkering as soon as he was able to stand. He came and stood next to me, showing off his new leg as if to demonstrate for the rest of the tribe that he had more in common with me than they did. More than a few jealous glares made me worried that there might be a few more ‘accidents’, but it appeared that even goblins weren’t crazy enough to deliberately maim themselves for a bit of perceived status (however inclined they were to accidentally maim themselves, notwithstanding).

The target practice continued into the afternoon eclipse. Individual goblins weren’t accurate with the things. But they didn’t have to be. We had numbers on our side. And by the next day, we’d have even more. I had one more plan to try and get that clay without a fight. But if it came down to it, these crossbows could really tip the odds toward the tribe in the battle with their stone-hide rival.

I watched the practice a bit more before ordering everyone back to their assigned tasks.

Buzz waved me over so that I could check the progress of the palisade on the shallower side of the bluff. It looked good, but it was burning through rope faster than the craftsmen could make more. We were going to need a more reliable source of cordage. I added it to the to be worried about later pile. But it was clear the wall would take several days to complete, just on the one side. And when an early afternoon rainstorm sent the tribe scurrying for their shelters to work on smaller parts and projects, I had to wonder if one side would be enough.

One other thing that bothered me was the predator taking goblins in the night. The way goblins surrendered to an involuntary lethargy after eating meant we were easy pickings overnight. I had tried to explain the concept of a watch. Even with trying to loop Buzz in as a mediator, he hadn’t understood.

<You know who stays up late? Hobgoblins.>

Shut it, System! Even if I could go back and choose again, I’d take taskmasters ten times out of ten.

<As long as you’re happy.>

Still, the System had a point. I’d have to consider the next time I hit a milestone that granted a new goblin variant for my tribe. Which would have greater benefit to the tribe in the long run? A variant that increased work efficiency? Or a variant that reduced attrition through security?

In the short term, I decided to double the number of goblins assigned to the wall project. But goblins apparently didn’t work in the rain. Not that I blamed them, the sensation of wet fur was distinctly unpleasant. And the smell. Woof.

It didn’t stop until almost nightfall, and shortly after the hunting party returned with fish and small game, including a few more fat birds.
Buzz came over to my fire while the catch of the day was strung up above the fire to smoke. He looked agitated, fidgeting and twitchy. “The lads in the wood spotted tracks of javeline rutters.”

“That some sort of pig?” I asked.

Buzz settled down and poked at the fire. “Half-pig, half dwarf.”

I tried to picture it. “Like Rufus?”

“Wrong half, boss.”

Ah. So, like a pig version of a centaur, then. What would you call that? A boar-a-taur? A jaballero? Well, I suppose calling it a javeline rutter was good enough. “Bad news, I take it?”

“When ain’t it?”

Fair. Wild pigs had a hell of a temperament. If their dwarven half inherited it at all, then I could see how that would be problematic for something like a goblin. Back home they’d invaded Texas, where NuEarth was located. The CEO took weekend trips to hunt them in his personal helicopter, according to the company-wide emails he blasted out Monday mornings. Not that I was jealous of his helicopter. Real aircraft have wings.

“Alright. We’ll put more hands on the wall project. That north slope is our biggest weak point if someone wants to attack the village.”

I thought Buzz would return to his workers, but he just laid down in place and went to sleep. Exhausted from the construction, probably. He might have been the first, but the dogpile was quick to form and I swear it gave off almost as much heat as the fire. That must be how they managed to survive winters in this world.

Luckily, it stayed dry enough in the shelters for small fires, and we only managed to burn one of them down. That was alright. I’d soon have the shelters built to a higher standard. But the priority was still the clay and the wall. We had to get a hold of it.

I looked at the stone-sloth hide, still intact and curing. Hostile night-time predators, resource-bogarting carnivorous sloths, and now a race of intelligent boar-dwarves. I didn’t think I’d get lucky enough for them to have Rufus’ open mind toward a goblin king, either. I needed to move quickly. Tomorrow, I was either going to get that clay, or lose a heap of tribesmen.