The aftermath of a battle was just as advertised on television, only being there in person you got all the sights and smells of a bloody battle with fire being thrown around without a care. This campsite, the roaming home for the Skavs, was in ruins. They mourned the destruction; I could see tears, hear the wailing of young and old. As with the Skavs, they weren't lamenting the loss of tents or bedrolls. They were miserable at the loss of their sacred junk. Yep, even with several Skav corpses, it was the massive junk pile, now a flaming ruin, that broke their little hearts.

  "Junk destroyed is a bad omen for Skav," Nutnug said to my side. He had just handed back my Aetherblade with an apology.

  "You guys can rebuild, right?" I hoped.

  "Need to find new junk and create a new sacred pile." He said that was such certainty as if they were damned by the gods and desired redemption.

  "I'm sure you will find a new one; plenty of junk to go around."

  "Yes, but it means we walk again; other Skav walk no longer." He spoke sombrely the first time I heard a little mourner in his voice.

  We stood there watching the camp scavengers take what was left. They consigned everything else to graves, turning their old home into a grave pit, and buried every fallen Skav with whatever remained of their horde. They placed even the burnt articles in each grave. No actual ceremony, just dump the body in the grave, drop their stuff on top and cover it with dirt. No pray or ritual, apparently the junk is all the ritual they need.

  I watched the graves fill up one at a time; most of the dead were unknown to me. Just goblinoid figures I barely recognised. But some were distinct. I recall talking to a few, even partying a bit. Not long enough to feel wounded by their deaths. However, it still hurt to see such a special group of people die, unable to save them. I felt a kinship with them; they were like me; they experimented and tested. Not settling with the system everybody went along with, but creating something wild and new.

  "Found something!" Rak yelled, and I turned to see him.

  He was dragging a very displeased and battered goblin across the ground. Biting and hitting, the goblin intended to escape but lacked the strength to oppose the durability of a Garathi warrior. Curious, I walked over, intent on plumbing the depths of this creature's knowledge. Surely he would know something about that demon.

  "I know nothing!" The goblin screamed, arms flailing as Rak pressed him to the ground.

  "If you know nothing, then I guess you're useless." Rak grinned, drawing his crossbow and pressing the bolt tip against the back of his head, pricking his bald head.

  "Do it, you Garathi thug. "I ain't afraid of death!"

  "Not afraid of death, huh?" I approached, looking down at the steely gaze of the goblin captive.

  He looked like a typical goblin: short of stature, with pointed ears, sickly green leathery skin and beady eyes that screamed untrustworthy. Probably racist to say, but he didn't seem like a nice guy. Actually, this goblin scumbag attacked and torched an innocent Skav camp, so it's not racism; it's experience.

  "Do your worst, human!" He challenged.

  I leaned down, eyes locked on the filthy wretch. I expected them to mislabel me. Perhaps I should add some horns or something to differentiate myself. But might end up being called a demon or breast-kin.

  "My worst is pretty bad, so how about we settle for this?" I raised a hand and dropped all my force attributes onto the back of that goblin.

  He expelled a very loud grunt of pain. Rak stepped back from the sudden drop of intense energy, probably got trauma from the last time I did this to him. Now if I could only use this in battle; however, it was very resource-intensive. I have to consume system points to keep up a consistent stream of kinetic force. I like to reserve those for my other skills. Perhaps when I have a lot of energy to spare, I can create a gravity-type skill.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Let me go!" The goblin barely formed three words.

  The amount of juice I was dropping on this dude was downright evil. I was pretty sure even the zero dark thirty guys weren't this cruel. Actually, scratch that. They waterboarded people. After about five minutes of practically being smashed into the ground, he didn't talk. So, I started blasting annoying music into his head at full volume. Then I realised I was getting into torture territory. I remembered the Burn Notice episode where the main character was locked in a room and loud sounds kept him awake for days.

  "You going to talk! Or do I have to get serious?" I demanded, but still he remained obstinate.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I found Nutnug pulling me away from the torture. He didn't seem bothered, which was good. If torture was bad in his culture, then that meant I was a bad guy too. Actually, I was probably already a bad guy, but I've dropped so many bodies so far, what's a little enhanced interrogation of a goblin? No doubt, the girl from the Inn would have something to say about this.

  "What's up? You want to take a crack at him? I mean, he attacked your people." I suggested.

  "No, but we have junk that could help."

  "What junk?" I asked the obvious question.

  Another Skav arrived. Short and chubby, he didn't seem like a fighter or a mage. His system aura was pretty weak, but the thing in his hands was giving off a weird vibe. I actually recognised it, a looped piece of string with a hollow circular bit of stone. It looked like the stuff hypnotists use. And just in that fashion, he waddled over and started waving that piece of junk in front of the goblin's face.

  The goblins' expressions went through a series of transformations. I got to see it all in real time. First it was the typical blind rage and pain, then confusion, then fear, and finally relaxation. His eyes glazed over, and his mouth warped into a strange smile. He looked content with his life, like a forty-year-old fresh off retirement and chilling with a beer watching the sunrise.

  "He talks truth now." The chubby Skav said, pocketing his hypno thing and quickly vacating.

  After he left, we started asking questions. Mostly focused on the demon and why goblins are attacking Skavs. He spilled the beans, still with that weird-ass smile on his face, completely taken by the hypnotism. I heard that stuff only works on the weak-minded.

  "Demons came to us a long time ago. He killed the hobgoblin chief and took over the dungeon." The goblin explained like a robot.

  "So, that demon just showed up and went full dungeon conqueror?" I asked.

  "Yes, he has great power, burned the dungeon lord to ash. Now he's the dungeon lord, and we serve."

  "Demons taking over dungeons, that's pretty new." I muttered.

  "What do you mean, new?" Rak asked.

  "Well, demons are not native to this world; they need to be summoned or just enter through a tear in reality." I lore dumped.

  "Does that mean someone summoned that thing?" Xyn spoke, horror on her face.

  "It's possible, and with demons, if one is around, soon others will come. Demons multiply because they can summon their friends. Never let a demon in unless you want a full-scale invasion."

  "You seem quite knowledgeable about demons. It even recognised you. Called you a servant."

  "Ah, that... well..." Using my brilliant, super-fast thinking, I came up with a grand idea. "Back home, demons are common knowledge; they teach the stuff in kindergarten. As for servant, that's just demon talk for a person who currently or formerly worked for the gods." I sort of lied.

  "You worked for the gods?" Rak asked, perplexed.

  "Briefly, and for the church to be more exact." I again lied.

  They seemed to accept that as reasonable. I neglected to bring up Xyn's apparent nature, and I think she appreciated it because she didn't force the issue about my having demon knowledge. After that, we interrogated the hypnotised goblin for a little while, and that revealed next to nothing, as the goblin knew little else because he was practically cannon fodder. So we left him to receive Skav justice; we all poignantly ignored the screaming as we walked away. With this detour coming to a close, I returned to Nutnug and gave back his spoon, figuring he needed it more than I did.

  "This junk is yours, win in a fight." Nutnug protested.

  "You need it more than I do. I figured out how it works; that's enough for me." I countered, totally remembering that I had extracted the blueprint of the enchantment.

  "You are gracious, may the great junk be with you."

  "And with you, buddy." I copied his weird bowing thing and quickly changed the subject. "So, where were you heading now?" I asked.

  "Do not know. Place not safe." He answered, a little misery on that adorable Skav face.

  It made me want to hug the guy; these Skavs were such cool dudes, and I didn't want to see them suffer. And that's when I came up with a brilliant idea.

  "How about you guys head that way? There is a cool temple home a friend of mine is staying at." I pointed in the vague direction of the temple, making a note to have Xyn give directions.

  "They take Skav?" he asked hopefully.

  "I'm sure they will be cool with you, just say Joey sent you."

  And with that, my little friends had a destination, and so did our little group. We said our heartfelt goodbyes to the tribe and went on our way. Onward to the city of Remoria. Hopefully, they are cool with the undead and vampires, so I can bring my pal and his future girlfriend.

  rating or review to strengthen my story with motivation!

  early access and support the author at .

  Discord — we’ve got snacks and chaos.