Crossing the gangway was as nerve racking as the last time, but at least my determination powered me forward nonstop. I don’t understand how the others simply run full speed down these as if it’s nothing. If they fall, then it’s all over. Why don’t they seem to value their lives? Just because we’re small doesn’t mean that we’re worthless. I’ve proven that! Think of all the precious things that I’ve plundered from the big ones. I’ll have to show them! Then they’ll know that every one of us is capable and valuable. We’re all more than only a single quick charge, stab, and choke before we die. There’s also the deferred, sneaky stab. The surprise status choke. The charge away as fast as you can so as not to be uselessly squashed underfoot.

  Finally arriving back at the same giant, central mound, I quickly scramble up the hill to avoid any unexpected aggression from knocking me off the side. Halfway up, I happen across a cluster of brothers gathered around some sort of precariously developing argument.

  “Non non! Ood!” one of the little ones violently screams.

  “Der agob,” another one screams back, pointing at the unmoving body of a goblin on the ground. “Der een. Agob dum. Dum dum.”

  “Gob dum?! Non dum!” the first screeches. “Agob dum! Der ood!”

  In? Out? What are they arguing about? Rushing over, I take it upon myself to calm the two before any violence ensues. We shouldn’t fight amongst our own kind! There are others far more worthy of our righteous wraith.

  “Agobs steel! Wat wan? Wat fite?” I calmly ask, placating the two with my hands held out flat.

  “Fras agob? Wat wan? Wan Ood,” the first little one answers plainly, confused that I would inquire regarding the obvious answer.

  “Non! Wan een! Agob dum! Non ood!” the second shrieks, enraged.

  “Wan ood? Wan een? War?” I request for clarification, still desperately trying to keep the peace as best I can with my meager, limited words.

  “Wat?!” both of the goblins incredulously squawk at my question, finally in union.

  “Der! Dum dum,” the first clarifies, pointing at the unmoving body on the ground while the second nods vigorously in agreement.

  Strolling over to the fallen goblin, I squat down low to inspect him carefully. Lifting his eyelids, he’s completely unresponsive. His eyes are lifeless. His limbs are limp, falling like rocks back to the ground when I drop them. Finally, my saliva wetted finger feels no breath from his mouth. He’s definitely dead. What happened here?

  “Non bref. Agob ood,” I plainly declare, sadly sighing now that I’ve finally understood the conflict.

  Did the second goblin want him to live? Did he know him? Were they friends? However, then why did the first one want him dead? Is this some kind of domestic conflict that I’ve wondered into?

  The first goblin raises his hands in the air, celebrating and running laps around the group whooping. The second, fuming, picks up a rock and angrily throws it at the dead goblin’s head. Storming over, he then violently shoves the carcass down the hill towards the void. Rolling and bouncing energetically, the lifeless body shoots over the side and out into the darkness on its final journey.

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  “Wat?” I exclaim in surprise, questioning the barbaric act against someone he wanted to live a few moments ago.

  “Afras!” the first goblin screams at the crowd, pounding his chest. “Gob feet! Gob gud!”

  No one steps forward to meet his demand. Instead, they settle down and lazily lounge as if waiting for something to begin. Only the second goblin rushes back to get in his face.

  “Non feet! Non gud! Agob dum. Agob luuk!” he rages again into the other’s conceited, smiling face.

  “Agob? Afras?” the triumphant goblin asks, pointing back at the second goblin and then at the ground in the middle of the crowd.

  Following his finger, I realize that they’ve carved a sizable, crude circle into the dirt. The body of the dead goblin had been near its center.

  “Gob?” the second goblin replies, all the rage draining. “Non non! Non gob.”

  “Agob bel. Bel gob. Gob dum? Gob luuk?” the champion challenges back at the rebel, getting close to his face. “Afras. Agob!”

  Shirking his empty, argumentative words, the rebel tumbles backwards and scrambles away.

  “Non! Non gob,” he screams again, desperate to find another solution. “Non gob. Non…”

  His eyes sweep through the crowd, searching for a worthy substitute. Does he want revenge that badly? Why doesn’t he step up to the challenge himself if he cares that much?

  “Agob!” he finally shrieks, pointing straight at me. “Agob! Wan een. Agob bel. Bel gob. Non een. Agob hap! Gib wan. Gib ween!”

  The crowd gets energised again, raising back to their feet. The champion marches over to my position and looks me over.

  “Agob? Agob feet? Agob gud? Afras?” he rhetorically inquires, evaluating whether or not I’m up to the challenge.

  “Gob?” I gasp. “Wat wan? Wat afras?”

  “Agob feet. Feet feet! Agob gud. Gud gud!” the rebel eagerly explains, growing more and more electrified with every word. “Afras. Afras afras! Afras afras!”

  The crowd submits to complete intoxication under the spell of the rebel’s chant. Every one of them enthusiastically joins into the rhythmic repetition.

  “Afras afras! Afras afras! Afras afras!”

  The champion smiles, accepting the crowd’s will.

  “Afras!” he yells, marching back to the center of the circle. “Agob har.”

  Pointing at the ground beside himself, he beckons me.

  “Wat–?” I begin asking in confusion, but the crowd swells behind me, shoving me inside the circle.

  “Afras afras! Afras afras! Afras afras!”

  Never ceasing the chanting, they line the entire perimeter, sealing me inside with the champion. I’m like a caged animal at their mercy. What do they want? Why are my brothers doing this to me? I just wanted to help! Wanted to bring us together, united against our common cause. I don’t want that cause to be me!

  The champion slowly circles as if his running evaluation never ended. His eyes have remarkably cooled compared to when he was angrily arguing with the rebel. Am I no real threat to him? How many has he killed before me? Is he really that amazing?

  I don’t want to hurt my kind, but I also don’t want to die. This can’t be the end of me. I won’t let it. I’ll fight back if I must!