The stars glimmered above like distant watchers as Kale paced along the outskirts of The Grotto. His mind was a maelstrom of calculations, probabilities, and images of hundreds of suffering humans in the Goblin City. The night air carried the scent of pine and the distant smell of cooking fires from within their settlement. He barely noticed the cold, wrapped as he was in the cloak of his thoughts.
Footsteps approached from behind, deliberately loud. Elara never made noise unless she wanted to.
"Your mind is so loud I can almost hear it without our link," she said, coming to stand beside him.
Kale didn't turn. "You think I'm insane."
"I know you're insane," Elara corrected, her voice calm as still water. "But that's never stopped you before."
The shadow of a smile touched Kale's lips. "Fair point."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching the swaying of the pines in the night breeze. Somewhere in the darkness, an owl called, and another answered.
"Hundreds, Elara," Kale finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hundreds of people suffering right now. Being eaten. Being broken. Just like the ones we saved from Grul."
Elara's jaw tightened. The memory of the Pain-Artist's hut was still raw. "I know."
"And you still think we should leave them?"
She turned to face him fully, her eyes reflecting starlight. "I think we have forty-three people in The Grotto. Eight of whom are children. Five who are injured. Against what Althea describes as thousands of goblins in a fortified city."
Kale nodded. "The numbers aren't favorable."
"That's putting it mildly."
A cold wind picked up, and Kale pulled his cloak tighter around himself. In the two weeks since the battle with Grul, he'd gained equipment—proper leather armor, boots, and a short sword at his hip. All crafted by their growing community. All evidence of what they'd built together.
"What about just scouting?" he asked, testing her reaction. "We send Corvus to gather intelligence. No risk."
Elara's eyebrow arched. "That's never where you stop, and we both know it."
Kale chuckled softly. "You know me too well."
"I've watched you walk into a goblin camp wearing their skin as a disguise. I've seen you manipulate their beliefs until they worshipped you as a prophet." Her voice wasn't accusatory, just matter-of-fact. "Your mind doesn't stop at information gathering."
The Scholar smiled and gestured toward a fallen log at the edge of the clearing. "Shall we sit? This might be a lengthy discussion."
They settled on the log, shoulders nearly touching. The familiarity between them had grown since their mental link had formed. Sometimes Kale wondered if there were still barriers between them at all.
"You're right," he admitted. "I don't want to just scout. I want to save them. All of them."
Elara sighed heavily. "Of course you do."
"But I also don't want to risk what we've built." He gestured back toward The Grotto, where the soft glow of fires illuminated the cave entrance. "I don't want to risk you."
The admission hung between them like a physical thing. Elara's expression softened for just a moment before returning to its practical neutrality.
"So what exactly are you proposing? And don't try to sweet-talk me. I want the full, unvarnished Kale Lucas strategic assessment."
Kale stared into the darkness for a long moment. "We need an army," he said finally. "Not forty fighters. Hundreds. And we need better intelligence about the Goblin City than what Althea can provide."
"And how do you propose we get this army?"
"The same way we've grown so far. Finding survivors." He turned to face her. "But we need to be more systematic about it. Corvus can cover more ground than we can. He can scout in all directions, locate groups of humans before the goblins do."
"Assuming there are any left to find," Elara countered.
"There have to be. Nine billion people were transferred to Norrath. We've found what, less than fifty? They're out there, Elara. Scared, hiding, probably dying."
A notification flashed across Kale's vision:
[System Notice: Logical Analysis complete. Estimating 10,000-15,000 human survivors within 100 mile radius of current position.]
Kale blinked in surprise. He hadn't actively used his Analysis skill, but apparently his subconscious reasoning had triggered it anyway. He shared the notification with Elara through their mental link.
Her eyes widened. "Ten thousand? That's… a lot more than I expected."
"The System confirms what logic suggests. Most survivors are probably hiding, staying quiet, avoiding detection. But the goblins are organized. They're actively hunting. It's only a matter of time before they're found."
Elara nodded slowly, her tactical mind engaging with the problem. "So we find them first."
"Exactly. But we can't go in the direction of the Goblin City. That area is likely already cleared out or under heavy patrol. We need to send Corvus in the opposite direction, further into the mountains."
"The mountains will be harder terrain," Elara noted. "Colder too, especially as winter approaches."
"Yes, but that's exactly why the goblins might avoid searching there. Harder terrain means better hiding places."
Kale stood and began pacing again, his mind racing with possibilities. "We start building safe routes. Hidden trails. Maybe even a network of small outposts. Places where rescued survivors can rest before making the journey to The Grotto."
"That's a lot of resources, Kale. Resources we don't have."
"We have 2,496 Settlement Points," he countered. "We've barely spent any of them because we've been focused on immediate needs. But we could build outposts. Small ones."
Elara stood as well, moving to block his pacing. "And who staffs these outposts? Who defends them?"
"That's where the first survivors we rescue come in. We evaluate their skills, their potential. The fighters stay to defend and expand the outposts. The crafters and others come back to The Grotto."
A soft rustling sound came from above them, and then Corvus descended, landing on a branch just overhead. The raven's dark eyes gleamed with intelligence as he cocked his head at Kale.
"Plotting again, are we?" the bird rasped. "Your mind never stops turning, summoner."
Kale looked up at his summoned companion. "How far can you fly in a day, Corvus?"
The raven puffed up his feathers. "One hundred and Fifty miles, give or take. More if I push myself, less if I'm being cautious."
"And your vision? How small a group of humans could you spot from the air?"
"On open ground? Three or four without difficulty. In forest cover? They'd need to have a fire or be moving." The bird's head tilted the other way. "What are you planning?"
"I need you to scout for survivors," Kale said. "Starting tomorrow. North and west, away from the Goblin City. Look for any signs of human activity. Campfires, shelters, tracks. Anything."
"And if I find some of these pitiful creatures?"
"Mark their location. Assess their numbers and condition if possible. Then return and report."
Corvus clacked his beak. "Simple enough. Though I expect payment for such services."
"The usual arrangement," Kale nodded. "Shiny objects of your choosing from whatever we salvage."
The raven seemed satisfied with this and fell silent, watching the two humans with calculating eyes.
Elara folded her arms across her chest. "Let's say Corvus finds survivors. Then what? We can't keep bringing everyone back to The Grotto. We're already straining our resources."
"That's why we need the outposts," Kale insisted. "They serve two purposes. First, they're waypoints for bringing survivors safely to The Grotto. Second, they extend our territorial control."
"Territorial control," Elara repeated flatly. "You're thinking about the Tier 2 requirements. Twenty citizens, infrastructure, defense, and a second outpost."
Kale nodded. "We already have the citizens. We've more than doubled that requirement. Infrastructure and defense are coming along. The second outpost is the missing piece."
"And once we reach Tier 2, what does that get us?"
"Noble contracts," Kale said, his eyes gleaming. "And with noble contracts comes the ability to field larger forces. To create formal military units. To establish true governance."
Elara went quiet, considering his words. Kale could almost see the calculations running behind her eyes, the tactical assessments, the risk evaluations.
"It's still not enough," she said finally. "Even if we find hundreds of survivors, even if we reach Tier 2, we're still talking about facing thousands of goblins in their fortress city."
Kale smiled, and there was something in that smile that made even Corvus shift uneasily on his branch.
"That's where the second part of my plan comes in," he said quietly. "We don't just need human survivors. We need allies."
"Allies?" Elara's brow furrowed. "What allies could we possibly—" Her eyes widened as realization dawned. "No. You can't be serious."
"The Hobgoblins," Kale confirmed. "Not just our ten. More. Many more."
"You want to find more goblins and evolve them? After what we've seen? After what they've done to humans?"
"Not all goblins are like Grul or the ones in the Goblin City," Kale argued. "Remember the Guttersnipes? Outcasts. Rejected by their own kind. There have to be more like them."
Elara shook her head in disbelief. "Even if there are, the process takes too long. We spent weeks getting our Hobgoblins ready."
"Because we were figuring it out as we went. Now we know the process. We can streamline it." Kale's voice grew more intense. "Think about it, Elara. Goblins are already fighters. They already have weapons and armor. They already know how to survive in this world. All they lack is discipline and intelligence—both of which the evolution provides."
"And loyalty," she added pointedly. "Don't forget that part."
"Loyalty can be earned. Gnar and his group are proof of that."
Corvus chuckled, a strange sound coming from a raven. "Fascinating. You propose to build an army of the very creatures who are your enemies. Bold strategy, summoner."
"Not enemies," Kale corrected. "Potential. Raw potential waiting to be shaped."
Elara began pacing now, her movements fluid and controlled despite her obvious agitation. "Let's say—hypothetically—that I agree this isn't completely insane. How would we even find these outcast goblins? It's not like they wear signs saying 'Please evolve me into a Hobgoblin.'"
"Actually, they kind of do," Kale said with a smile. "Remember what made the Guttersnipes outcasts? They were smaller. Weaker. Less aggressive. The runts and rejects."
"So we look for the goblin equivalent of homeless encampments," Elara said dryly.
"Precisely. And who better to help us identify them than our own Hobgoblins? Gnar knows what to look for."
A long silence fell between them. In the distance, the sounds of The Grotto carried faintly—laughter, the clang of metal on metal from Leo's forge, the rhythmic chopping of wood.
"You know what you're really proposing, don't you?" Elara finally said, her voice quiet.
Kale met her gaze steadily. "I'm proposing we save as many lives as possible. Human and goblin alike."
"No." She shook her head. "You're proposing war. Full-scale war against the Goblin City."
Kale didn't deny it. "Eventually, yes. But not yet. Not until we're ready."
"And when will we be ready? How many people do we need? How many Hobgoblins? Give me a number, Kale."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Hundreds, at least. Maybe a thousand. It depends on what Corvus discovers about the Goblin City's defenses."
"A thousand," Elara repeated incredulously. "We have forty-three people, Kale. Forty-three."
"We start small. We rescue twenty survivors. Then fifty. Then a hundred. We evolve a dozen Hobgoblins. Then two dozen. We build one outpost. Then another. Each step makes the next one easier."
Corvus fluttered down from his branch to land on the log they'd been sitting on. "The Scholar thinks in systems," the raven observed. "Recursive growth. Exponential returns. Very clever."
"It's not just cleverness," Kale said, his voice softening. "It's necessity. Those people in the Goblin City… they're suffering right now. Every day we wait, more die."
Elara's expression changed, the hardness in her eyes giving way to something more vulnerable. "I know. Gods, Kale, I know." She took a deep breath. "But I also know what happens when you rush in without proper preparation. People die. Our people."
"Which is why we won't rush," Kale promised. "We build methodically. We train. We prepare. We gather intelligence. And we only move against the Goblin City when we're ready."
She studied his face for a long moment, searching for any sign of deception or recklessness. Finding none, she sighed.
"I want daily reports from Corvus," she said finally. "And we set clear parameters for any rescue missions. No heroics. No solo operations. We move as teams, always with backup."
Kale nodded, relief washing over him. "Agreed."
"And we bring this to a vote," she added. "Not just you and me deciding. Everyone in The Grotto needs to understand what we're proposing. What the risks are."
"That's fair," Kale conceded. "Though I think you know how Samuel will vote after what Althea told him about the captives."
"Samuel isn't the only voice that matters," Elara reminded him. "Leo and Maria have children to think about now. Silas is elderly. Anya has patients."
"All the more reason to build our strength," Kale argued gently. "The Goblin City won't remain content with its current hunting grounds forever. Eventually, they'll expand. They'll find us."
"Unless we find them first," Elara finished his thought.
"Exactly."
Corvus flapped his wings impatiently. "So, am I scouting tomorrow or not? Dawn comes early, and I'd prefer to begin with the first light."
Kale looked to Elara, deferring to her judgment. After a moment, she nodded.
"First light," she confirmed. "North and west, as Kale said. Stay high, stay hidden. Priority is finding human survivors, but note any goblin encampments as well—especially any that seem separate from the main city."
"As you command, Ranger," Corvus said with an exaggerated bow of his head. "Though I expect double payment for identifying goblins. Risky business, that."
Kale smiled. "Triple, if you can identify outcast groups specifically."
The raven's eyes gleamed with avarice. "Done."
With that, Corvus launched himself back into the night sky, disappearing among the stars.
Alone again, Kale and Elara stood in comfortable silence for a moment. The weight of their decision hung between them, but it felt right. Necessary.
"We should get back," Elara said eventually. "It's late, and if we're calling a settlement meeting tomorrow, we'll need our rest."
Kale nodded, but made no move to leave. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"For what?"
"For challenging me. For making me think through the consequences." He smiled ruefully. "For not letting me charge headlong into disaster."
Elara's lips quirked upward. "Someone has to keep you grounded, Scholar. Might as well be me."
As they walked back toward The Grotto, Kale found his mind already racing ahead, planning the meeting, anticipating objections, preparing arguments. But beneath the tactical calculations was something else—hope. For the first time since learning about the Goblin City, he felt that they might actually succeed.
"You know," Elara said as they approached the settlement entrance, "there's something you haven't considered."
"Oh?"
"What happens after." She glanced at him. "After we defeat the Goblin City. After we free the captives. What then?"
Kale blinked, surprised by the question. "Then… we build. We expand. We create a safe haven for humans in this world."
"And the Hobgoblins? What happens to them?"
"They'll be part of it," Kale said without hesitation. "Equal citizens. They've earned that right."
Elara studied him for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."
As they passed through the gates of The Grotto, nodding to the Hobgoblin guards on duty, Kale felt a strange sense of destiny settling over him. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't even just about saving the captives in the Goblin City.
This was about creating something new. Something that had never existed before on Norrath. A society where humans and evolved goblins could live together, learn from each other, protect each other.
The thought should have terrified him. Instead, it filled him with a fierce determination.
Tomorrow, they would begin.