Paul’s POV

  Paul walked along the ditch around Gravewell. In some areas a wall had begun to be built. The wooden structure was 15 feet tall. Not tall enough to stop a giant or a couple of determined ogres, but good enough for the goblins and hobgoblins that inhabited the Deepwood.

  Extra dirt was being dug up for the hill motte. Howard calculated that with the extra labor, the motte would take about a month to make, then they could start on the castle. That gave them about a month to gather iron ore from the bog, which Gideon assured him should be enough time to gather at least enough to get started.

  Paul stopped at the foot of the motte; he admired the giant mound of dirt. A smile crept onto his face. Soon he wouldn’t have much to fear. The adventurers who were hunting him would have to get past all this to get to him. He would have a more fortified position than some crypt in the north of a small kingdom.

  “You look pleased.” Eryndral said as she walked up to him.

  Paul rolled his eyes. All he wanted from tonight was to admire his own greatness and the lengths he had come. No doubt Eryndral wanted him to leave straight away and find this mine in the north.

  “What can I do for you, Eryndral?” Paul asked, trying to keep things civil.

  Eryndral was a priestess of Shiiraviia, the goddess Paul worshipped. Eryndral also had a divine tether, a sign of a god’s favor. While she had power and authority in Shiiraviia’s name, Paul still needed to think about the future, and the good of his fledgling kingdom. Eryndral’s obsession with this mine, though.

  “There is a goblin who wishes to learnt he ways of Shiiraviia.” Eryndral said after a long pause.

  That was not what Paul had been expecting.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She wishes to join the priesthood.”

  Paul looked over at Eryndral. “A female?”

  “Yes. I know it may cause issues with the other goblins.” Eryndral said.

  Paul scratched his beard ad turned back to the motte. “Did you know we had to go find humans who could construct the castle?”

  “What?” Eryndral asked.

  “We had to go find humans, because the goblins didn’t know what to do.” Paul said. “Goblins are ignorant and simple.” He turned to Eryndral. “Are you certain this female goblin shows promise?”

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know much about her.”

  “Why is she interested then?” Paul asked.

  Eryndral looked away from Paul, “I think she thinks it will elevate her in the eyes of her peers.”

  “Are there plans to make that the case?” Paul chuckled a little.

  “The priesthood should be separate from your rule, in my opinion.” Eryndral said.

  “No.” Paul said. “The Church of Shiiraviia in my territory will be subservient to me.”

  “I will pray on the matter.”

  “Do that.”

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  Eryndral was silent for a while. Thinking she may be done; Paul began to walk back to his hut.

  “When are you going to go to the mine?” Eryndral said before he could get too far away.

  ‘As reliable as the dawn.’ Paul thought to himself. “It will take time. The mine is a month away through hostile territory.” He turned around and looked at Eryndral. “It will take time.”

  “That is why we must move on it soon.” Eryndral took a few steps toward Paul. “What if the mine is taken by one of these hostile powers?”

  Paul closed his eyes. If he could breathe, he would have taken deep breaths. “I’ll send word to Rikkard to gather the troops. We will leave within the week.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Eryndral said.

  “A two-month trip there and back.” Paul said. “I hate to be gone for so long, but I also can’t send just Rikkard out to the mine by himself.” He looked up. “I’ll leave Grag in charge, with a contingent of soldiers to keep everyone in line.”

  “If you don’t mind, I would like to accompany you to the mine.” Eryndral said.

  Paul wiped a hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll send for you when we are ready to head out.”

  Done with the conversation, Paul walked back to his hut. He had been constructing a map of the area and would need it to determine the route to the mine. Rikkard’s scouts had been extremely useful in this task.

  Paul used an air spell on each scout so their position would highlight on the map and alter it as they came and went. Between here and the mine, were 10 hostile goblin villages. One village was even rumored to have bugbears in it.

  Luckily according to all accounts most of the hobgoblins and bugbears lived in the east of the Deepwood. The eastward campaign would be a lot harder than anything they were facing here in the west. It was something Paul both anticipated and dreaded.

  Rikkard seemed confident that the hobgoblins could easily defeat a goblin army two to even three times their size. Plus, hobgoblins had casters and divine magic users, which meant Grag’s training would be all the more important. Paul wasn’t too familiar with the divine runes or their casters. It may be that Eryndral would be an important figure in the conquest of the eastern villages.

  Stopping the messenger goblin Rikkard had stationed in Gravewell, Paul had him go tell Rikkard to gather all the forces he could. They were going for the mine in the west. Obediently the goblin left to go to the Skullcrusher village. He also stopped another random goblin and had his fetch Grag.

  Entering his tent, Paul looked over the map. Only one goblin had made it to the mine leaving the area mostly unknown, but the goblins had a lot of intel about the closest villages. Trade for much of anything other than slaves was rare among the tribes. Instead, they raided one another frequently.

  With roughly 15 villages under his command, these new ten and the mine would nearly double his strength. Unlike the self-serving lissik, goblins would surrender and work for Paul.

  Grag arrived while Paul was still examining the map.

  “You wanted to see me, Master?” Grag asked.

  “Yes, I’m leaving you in charge of Gravewell while I’m gone.” Paul looked up from the map. “I know you are technically chief, but this will be the first time you rule alone.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Grag said.

  Paul walked over to a stack of books and picked out a thinner looking one with black leather bindings and strange symbols on the front.

  “This is an apprentice’s fire spellbook. I expect for you to have read it while I am gone. Your training is highly important.” Paul handed him the book.

  “Thank you Master.” Grag said. “I will read it every night along side my other training regiments.” He smiled as he took the book.

  “You’ve been showing a lot of promise, don’t disappoint.” Paul said.

  “What if we are attacked by another village?” Grag asked.

  “I will leave enough troops here to protect you from small raiding parties from the west.” Paul said. “If for some reason a massive attack happens, which isn’t likely, go ahead and retreat towards us. Send messengers and we will be back as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I’m placing a lot of trust in you Grag.” Paul put a hand on the goblin’s shoulder. “The center must hold. Gravewell must survive. Enemies from within and without seek to destroy us. Stay prepared.”

  “I will.” Grag nodded furiously.

  An approving smile crept onto Paul’s face. “Good.” Standing tall and turning around Paul said, “Now go, I have work to do.”

  “Yes Master.” Grag practically skipped while leaving the hut.

  If Eryndral was correct, then there was another necromancer in the mines. Sure, he would have to face plenty of undead at the mine, Paul prepared some of his more advanced fire spells. While Eryndral called the unknown necromancer an ally, Paul knew better. Wizards were proud folk.

  This necromancer won’t just surrender because Paul showed up with Eryndral. She was lost in the glory of the goddess. While Paul believed in Shiiraviia, he would be a fool not to, he also knew what mortals were like. He used to be one and he knew surrendering meekly to an unknown wizard was not their way.